Guitar Huntsman
by Vronsurd
Summary: Jaune never wanted to be a Hunter. He wanted to be a musician. Partly due to his father, but mostly his own stupidity, Jaune winds up in Beacon, with no weapon. Making matters worse, his teachers think his instruments are badass weapons. Rather than ask, they launch him into a Grimm filled forest, no aura, no landing strategy, nothing but the guitar on his back. JaunexMystery Humor
1. Chapter 1

**So I've currently got three stories up. This is number 3. The update schedule for my fics should already be up on my profile. Didn't get a whole lot of response on my Peter Port fic and I think that's because of the weird character list that no one is interested in seeing—although I think if people read the fic they might enjoy it. Its pretty absurd but interesting.**

 **Just a thought.**

 **Anyway.**

 **Guitar Huntsman is an experimental fic of sorts. I write a lot of poetry, which translates okay to lyric writing. So I should be able to write some pretty interesting songs for this fic. Anyone wants to put them to music, lol, feel free.**

 **This story is going to be a mixture of fluff, fun, and seriousness, so be ready for all three.**

 **This first chapter is longer than future updates will be. So, don't expect them to all be in this ballpark. This thing is nearly 11k. Not my initial aim. But that happens sometimes when you're building your premise chapter.**

 **Guitar Huntsman**

 _So, I've been staying at_

 _This weird hotel called life._

 _I've been here seventeen_

 _Days and seventeen nights_

 _I'm still dreading the day_

 _When it's time to pay_

 _End my little stay_

 _And turn out all the lights_

 _Cause. I've been staying. At_

 _This. Weird. Hotel. Called. Life._

 _Wa-ah-oh-oh-ah-oh-oh_

 _Wa-oh—oh-oh-oh_

 _Wa-ah-oh-oh-ah-oh-oh_

 _Wa-oh—oh-oh-oh_

 _Monty Oum, save my heart_

 _Who the hell is Jaune Arc?_

 _Haven't got no answers_

 _But I guess askin' is a start._

 _It's destiny,_

 _They say_

 _Just trust in me,_

 _They say_

 _Well_

 _My destiny,_

 _Can wait_

 _The trust in me,_

 _Can fade_

 _But_

 _I_

 _Don't_

 _think_

 _I_

 _can_

 _Oh-Oh_

 _I've got these people tellin' me_

 _To just trust in destiny_

 _And why can't you see_

 _How blessed you are to be_

 _Locked in your heredity_

 _The owner of a legacy_

 _Of blood and gore_

 _And Grimm and death_

 _And war galore_

 _And the golden crest!_

 _So, take your shield_

 _And take your sword_

 _Bear your seal_

 _My father roared_

 _Embrace it! Take it!_

 _Don't forsake it!_

 _Grab it! Have it!_

 _Wreak some havoc!_

 _But…_

 _What if this hotel room…?_

 _I want to trash it?_

 _Wa-ah-oh-oh-ah-oh-oh_

 _Wa-oh—oh-oh-oh_

 _Wa-ah-oh-oh-ah-oh-oh_

 _Wa-oh—oh-oh-oh_

 _Monty Oum, save my heart_

 _Who the hell is Jaune Arc?_

 _Haven't got no answers_

 _But I guess askin' is a start._

 _It's destiny,_

 _They say_

 _Just trust in me,_

 _They say_

 _Well_

 _My destiny,_

 _Can wait_

 _The trust in me,_

 _Can fade_

 _But_

 _I_

 _Don't_

 _think_

 _I_

 _can_

 _Oh-Oh_

 _But…_

 _I…_

 _Don't…_

 _Think…_

 _I…_

 _Can…_

"I wonder if he knows we can hear him," said Mathias Arc, standing before his open window, listening to his son's voice fade as he strummed his ukulele a few more times.

"I doubt it Matt," replied his wife, Willow, from their bed. She had set down her novel in favor of listening to her son's performance. "Jaune only goes up to the roof when he wants to be alone." She huffed. "Even though I've told him a hundred times not to climb up there."

Mathias exhaled roughly. He reviewed the song lyrics he had just heard. He was responsible for their somber tone. There could be no doubt of that. "Will, I'm starting to feel like the bad guy here. I'm not trying to hurt Jaune. I'm not trying to break him. I just… The burden of being an Arc—he's my only son—I'm supposed to pass it on to him."

Jaune's lilting voice began again, singing the same song to an altered melody, a little jauntier, with occasional slaps to the body of his instrument.

So, it wasn't a finished piece. He was still experimenting.

The Arc patriarch rubbed at his eyes, sure they were red.

Willow slid out of bed and padded over to him. She draped her arms over his shoulder. Standing on her toes, she pressed a gentle kiss to the base of his neck. "You're not a bad father Matt, if that's what you're thinking then stop. I know you're not in an easy position, and I think Jaune knows that too. He's smart. He knows how much you love him."

"You think?"

"You could still tell him a little more often though. He's not going to wring it out of you like the girls."

"Like you?"

"Like me," agreed Willow.

Mathias and his wife stood in amiable silence for a few minutes. Willow hummed along with their son. She was ranked second among the Arcs in terms of musical talent—Jaune taking a clear first.

When Jaune was finishing up his new rendition Willow spoke, "have you been considering...it?"

"More and more every day," replied Mathias. "I'm going to keep working on him, but I don't see much change. You should start thinking up a way to give it to him."

"Already have."

Mathias chuckled. "Of course, you have." He shook his head and muttered, "I hope I've been doing this the right way."

"You are doing your best," Willow nuzzled his neck. She stopped suddenly, the grip on his neck tightening. Her voice was just as loving as before, except for her pronunciation of one word. When she hit that word, Mathias's heart skipped a beat. "Only, I've been noticing my baby boy coming back from your _training_ sessions with injuries. Care to explain?"

Mathias cleared his throat. "A few cuts and scrapes and bruises are no big…"

Her grip around his neck tightened.

Mathias switched tactics. "It's not my fault. He keeps doing it to himself."

" _Really_?" Willow's ever tightening grip on his throat evidenced that she did not believe him.

Mathias could feel his aura begin to flare, protecting him from injury.

"Really. Sometimes we aren't even training when it happens."

"Hmm…I see."

Mathias wasn't sure whether his wife believed him, but at least she wasn't choking him anymore.

Still, he should change the topic, just to be safe. "Let's go to bed."

Willow nodded. "Sure. But first, go get Jaune off the roof before he breaks his neck."

"What about my neck?" Mathias muttered. The roof was sturdy and secure. There just weren't many good ways to get up. The route Jaune used was a precarious death wish.

Come to think of it, how the hell did his clumsy son get to the roof so often without breaking both his legs?

Willow's voice was thick and sultry in his ear. "Is protecting your neck more important than being my hero?"

Whelp!

Mathias disentangled himself from his wife, stepped on their window sill, turned, crouched, leaned, and leapt towards the ledge. He scrambled onto the roof a second later.

Sometimes a man needed to do what a man needed to do.

###

"Why?" panted Jaune, raising his sword in preparation for another heavy blow.

"Because that's what it means to be an Arc. It's in your blood." The man brought his weapon down with the strength of an Ursa paw.

"W-what does that even mean!?" shouted Jaune, his knees quailed under the force.

"What does what mean?" asked his father.

"You're always saying It's in my blood this, it's in my blood that." Jaune attempted to score a hit with a sloppy slash. It was woefully ineffective. His father danced away from the strike as if he were dodging the swat of a toddler. "Blonde hair is in my blood! Blue eyes are in my blood! What I become is a choice!"

Mathias Arc scoffed at that. "Obviously, Jaune! Obviously, it's a choice! Everything important you will ever do in your life will be the result of a choice!"

Jaune flinched as his blade flew from his hand, clattering to the ground.

"Every choice you can implement—is open to you Jaune!" Mathias roared, the tip of his sword poking Jaune's sternum. "That much is true for everyone. But you also have a calling, a gift, a responsibility! You, Jaune Arc, have a destiny. I can't force you to accept it. But I sure as hell won't let you forget it."

Jaune gritted his teeth, searching for the right response. "I don't know much about destiny or gifts or callings. But _if—if_ I have one…who says it's the same as every other Arc in history? Why do you or grandpa or anyone else get to choose that?"

Mathias exhaled deeply. More to himself than Jaune he said, "I hate this. I really do." Louder and directed at his son he said, "sword. Pick it up. Now."

Jaune looked behind him. The wooden weapon had flown a good twenty feet, skittering across the brick patio.

He wished it had broken.

He staggered towards the ligneous sword. Unfortunately, the tip of his right sneaker caught in the crevice between two bricks. He faceplanted immediately.

Jaune could feel his father's eyes burning a hole in his back.

He crawled the rest of the way to his weapon. There was warm liquid trickling out of his nose when he stood and faced his dad.

Mathias released his stance, sword dropping to his side, groaning. The tension in his voice earlier had vanished. "Damnit Jaune! You need to stop hurting yourself during these spars. Your mom doesn't believe me when I tell her ninety-five percent of your injuries are self-inflicted."

Jaune relaxed as well, his anger abating in favor of a surge of indignation. "I'm not doing it on purpose," he said defensively.

"I know you're not," said Mathias. "You're honest to a fault. And it takes a lot of fortitude to intentionally hurt yourself carrying out a deception."

Jaune nodded.

Wait.

Was his dad saying he didn't have what it took to hurt himself for a lie?

The sneaky insult was like a sharp knife being dragged slowly but lightly down his chest. The more he thought about it, the deeper the knife went.

"Let's end it here for today," said Mathias after some short deliberation.

Thank Oum. "Really? You normally want to go until the sun sets."

"Yeah, but your mother is already going to kill me over your nose. Why make it worse by keeping you out here another hour?"

Jaune tilted his head back.

"Hey, remember what I told you?", chided Mathias.

"Oh, right!" Jaune hastily looked down, letting the blood drain and then pinching his nostrils.

Figures that, only now, when he was seventeen, he would learn the proper way to deal with a bloody nose. Jaune had always been under the impression that you were supposed to cock your head back and suck the blood back in.

Apparently, among those who got bloody noses often, leaning your head back was actually a taboo.

Who would have thought? You really could learn something new every day.

"We can just wait until my nose stops bleeding. Mom doesn't have to know," offered Jaune.

Mathias shook his head. "She'll know. She always knows."

Jaune couldn't help but smile a bit at his father's fearful inflection. Part of it was for show, surely. But, knowing Willow Arc, some portion of it was genuine. "Dad?"

"What?"

Jaune licked his lips. He didn't want to reignite the "discussion" from earlier, but…

He needed to know.

"You keep saying stuff like I have a gift… That Arcs are destined to be the guardians of man… That I'm a warrior…"

"And?"

"I understand that that's how the Arcs are supposed to be. I get that. I mean—look at Crystal. Mom threatens you by saying she'll have her beat you up!"

Mathias smile didn't quite reach the upper half of his face as he chuckled. "Yeah. That's always funny."

"Right?" agreed Jaune. "So yes, I get that that's how Arcs should be. But isn't it obvious that I'm not? I'm a terrible fighter. I'm clumsy and uncoordinated. And even though my endurance is getting better I don't think I'll ever be good enough to actually hit things with my sword…" Jaune recalled yesterday's training session. "…Other than my own face."

"No one is great in the beginning Jaune," Mathias replied.

"Really?" asked Jaune, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I wonder what Grandpa meant when he said, 'Arcs take to the sword like a fish takes to water?'"

"Your Grandpa is an asshole."

Jaune's jaw dropped at that.

Mathias shrugged. "You're seventeen now. I'm not going to sugarcoat life for you. If your mother hadn't threatened to cut him off from his precious granddaughters he probably would have whisked you off into the mountains for training when you were ten. Trust me, you would not have enjoyed that. You're lucky I'm training you."

"Are you telling me that mom was the only thing stopping me from getting kidnapped by _your_ dad?" Jaune checked his fingers. The bleed was slowing.

"Let me tell you something Jaune, something you are never to tell your mother that I told you. Okay?"

"Okay," said Jaune, curiosity piqued.

Mathias motioned for him to head over to the umbrella protected table in the corner. They sat next to each other in the refreshing shade.

"Your grandfather has always believed that Arc men need to marry strong women. Women, who are indomitable. Women who can…well produce and raise strong, tough, terrifying children. Which is why he picked out my wife for me."

"Grandpa picked out mom!?"

"God! No!" his father exclaimed, eyes widening, he held up two open hands, as if to say to some omniscient spectator that he had nothing to do with Jaune's ludicrous suggestion. "My dad picked out this…other woman. He just sent me a message one day saying, 'I have found your wife.' I had been dating your mother at that point for a couple of months. And I didn't want to make things weird between us. So, I thought I'd just keep the message a secret. But—"

"She knew," inserted Jaune.

"She always knows," agreed Mathias. "She made me tell her about the message. And then she said she'd love to meet my parents. I told her I thought it was a little early for that."

"How'd she take that?", asked Jaune, suddenly feeling uneasy about the direction this story was heading.

"Oh, she kept smiling," replied Mathias, "and then she dragged me to the CCT and forced me to call your grandmother. She was all smiles and charm—while she was on the call at least—she set up a dinner for a week later. She glared at me and stomped off when it was over."

Was it strange how easily Jaune could imagine this terrifying younger version of his mother?

"Well…" Mathias face twisted, clearly reliving the memory, "your grandfather knew I was bringing over my girlfriend. He knew that one-hundred-percent. But he still decided to invite..."

Mathias faded off.

"The _other_ woman?" asked Jaune incredulously.

Mathias nodded. "I can't remember her name. Not that it matters. So, it was me, your mother, your grandmother, your grandfather, your aunt, and the woman my dad had decided I would marry."

"That must have been awkward," muttered Jaune.

"It was terrible. Of course, your aunt enjoyed every moment of it. Your grandfather put me at the end of the table. Willow sat to my right and…the other sat to my left. Right from the start, Grandpa ignored your mom. He kept talking to…Lara—that was her name! Oum! I am getting old..."

"What happened next?" asked Jaune impatiently.

"Where was I…? Right. Your Grandpa didn't even acknowledge your mom was there. He kept asking Lara about her accomplishments as a Huntress and her feats of strength. Aunt Mel and your grandmother asked Willow about herself—and your mom was on her best behavior—politer than _I'd_ ever seen her—but Grandpa pretty much dominated the conversation. Then he started talking about how good Lara and I would be for each other. Your mother just kept smiling, talking to your aunt, _acting_ all sociable…"

Jaune was leaning forward in his seat now, anxious to hear the end of this story. He had not missed his father's emphasis on the word "acting."

"And then dad started talking about what I and Lara's children would look like," Mathias hid his face in his hands. "And Lara started looking at me, started touching my hand, that sort of thing. Mel kept shooting me looks," he scoffed, "as if I could take control of this situation!" He shook his head. "I didn't really keep count, but I guess she must have been about to touch my hand for the third time when... when it happened."

Jaune noticed his father looked paler than he had a few moments ago. "What happened?"

Mathias took a deep breath as he continued, "there was a noise. Sounded like a hit, but then there was this metal bending, screeching noise. I had no idea where it came from, so I looked around. There was Willow on my right, still smiling. Nothing wrong there. Then there was my dad and mom and Mel...they were all staring at something to my left. I thought, oh Lara made that noise. But I didn't really want to look at Lara, after all, I'd been doing my best grandpa impression, trying to pretend she didn't exist. So, I looked down. And then I saw it."

"Saw what?" asked Jaune, impatient.

"A few inches from my hand was Lara's. Above her hand, holding a fork was your mother's. She'd stabbed it into Lara's aura hard enough to destroy the fork's teeth and put indents in Lara's hand."

"What?!" Jaune exclaimed. "You said she was still smiling!"

"She was." Mathias shuddered. "She still looked happy. Her voice even stayed pleasant when she said, and this is a direct quote…"

Jaune leaned in, to better here his father's lowered voice.

"'Third time's the charm bitch. If you touch my man again I'll find something with better aura penetration.'"

Jaune sputtered at that.

"I reacted the same way, sprayed a mouthful of soup all over Lara. Your mother traded her ruined fork with Lara's, picked up her napkin and started wiping my lips, telling me I was making a mess. No one said anything for a minute, probably two. Then Lara just exploded. She started screaming at Willow, saying she was going to kill her. She even broke the table."

"What did mom do?", asked Jaune. His mother was no more a warrior than he was. Well…honestly, after hearing this story, he wasn't so sure. But he _was_ certain that she had never unlocked her aura.

"She sat there, still smiling, and just…ridiculed her. Kept calling her a barbarian and a brainless brute and…other, less kind things about her womanhood. When it finally looked like Lara might really try to kill your mom, Mel tried to show her the door. In the end, Mel had to knock her out."

That didn't shock Jaune at all. What a very Aunt Mel thing to do.

"Your mom, I kid you not, stared at Lara's unconscious body for a few seconds and then said, 'For a barbarian woman she wasn't even good at being a barbarian was she? The only thing she managed to injure…" Mathias pointed down at the table, just as Jaune imagined his mother had, "…couldn't even hit back.' Mel thought it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. Your grandmother and grandfather were whispering to each other. I was still trying to figure out what the hell had just happened." Mathias shook his head. "Turns out, while I was desperately reconsidering my relationship with the amazing psycho that is your mother, Aunt Mel had found her new best friend, and your Grandpa was telling Grandma he saw the fiercest generation of Arcs in history on the horizon."

"So, they liked mom…because she started a fight in front of them?"

"Liked her more than they've ever liked me," said Mathias without a hint of jest. "Whenever we had fights when we were dating, she'd tell Mel, Mel would tell mom and dad, and the next thing I knew my parents would be in my apartment, in my bedroom, shaking me awake, telling me to go beg for her forgiveness. And…" Mathias blanched, "…to accept my punishment."

"Punishment…?" Jaune questioned.

"It wasn't bad," said Mathias, "just exhausting. So exhausting…"

Jaune watched his father drift off into a daze. He snapped out of it a moment later. "But, don't worry about that."

Too late.

"Anyway, I think the point of all this is to say, if you ever need help dealing with your grandpa go to her. I've been trying to earn your grandfather's respect for decades. Your mother did it in the first hour she knew him. She'll stand up to him on the drop of a dime. And for some reason—he loves it—even though I got beaten for that kind of thing, even when I was basically an adult."

Mathias stroked his stubbled face, gaze distant, probably lost in a memory of his rarely discussed childhood.

Jaune imagined his grandfather beating a young Mathias, probably for the crime of answering a question unfavorably. Aside from these blasted training sessions, neither of Jaune's parents had ever hit him—nor his sisters. "You aren't raising us the same way grandpa raised you and Aunt Mel, are you?"

"I take all my parenting cues from your mother," Mathias replied mechanically.

Jaune smiled at that. As did Mathias.

Juane started drumming his fingers against the table. The rhythm was discernable. It would sound better with some drums though. Notes floated lazily through his mind. What tone? Perhaps light, airy and amusing? It was a funny story after all. But also, a terrifying one. Perhaps he should go for a sort of ironic horror sound?

"Hey! Jaune… Don't forget you agreed not to tell your mother I told you this."

Jaune refocused on his dad. The man was staring at him warily.

"Huh? Yeah, I know."

Mathias's eye's narrowed. "Obviously, that means no writing songs about it."

"I would never," Jaune lied.

The boy had never been a good liar.

"I'm serious Jaune! You cannot give your mom a hint. I repeat, not even a hint, that you know this! Not even a hint!"

"I get it. I get it. Don't sing my new song in front of mom."

"No! Don't make your new song about the story I just told you!"

"That's fine," said Jaune, amusement barely restrained. "I've been working on something else. Something I bet she'll like."

Mathias sent him a questioning look.

"Goes something like this," began Jaune. He tapped on the table a few times to give a sense of rhythm. His voice was jovial and peppy has he sang,

 _Bloody, blue and beaten_

 _Sword hits me like a greetin'_

 _Father speakin' tersely_

 _Oh Oum! Why's he hurt me?_

 _His elbow hits my nose_

 _Crimson liquid flows_

 _He kicks in my knee_

 _Says I cannot flee_

He hit the chorus.

 _Daddy doesn't touch the drink_

 _Still hits me with the kitchen sink_

 _Says it's all for training's sake_

 _Then he lies to mama's face_

 _Dadd—_

Mathias interrupted him, his eyes wide, and mouth agape. "How long have you been planning to use _that_ to get out of training?"

"Ten minutes. Since you told me mom thinks you're beating me up."

Mathias shook his head. "So, you can make up a full blown song in ten minutes, and you've got a voice like an angel. You sure you don't have a girlfriend?"

Jaune felt heat rush to his head.

Apparently, even the thought of his excruciating escapades with the opposite gender was enough to trigger a flood of embarrassment.

He was even starting to feel a little nauseous as well, just as he had during his last failure.

Great.

"Ah. That's right. What is it Ellie says? You only act cool at home? At school you're a—what did she call you?—a blubbering mess?"

Jaune fought through the blistering surge in his cheeks. "Maybe I should just make mom a mixtape. I could come up with a couple good songs for her to listen to while she's punishing you."

Jaune grinned.

Mathias looked a little green. "I don't think either of use wants to hear your voice while she's punishing me."

Jaune's grin slipped as he put two and two together. "Oh Oum! You meant…? Ugh! Dad!" The mental image that sprouted into Jaune's mind, unbidden, involved his parents and a lot of black leather. It was the most horrifying thing he had ever witnessed. He felt ill. So ill.

Mathias recovered first. "Maybe I should tell grandpa which bedroom is yours so he can snatch you from your window."

Mathias smirked.

Ah. That would put Jaune through hell. And it had the bonus effect of giving Willow's rage a new target. A win-win for his opponent. A brilliant move on his dad's part.

Several orders more brilliant than suggesting he make a mixtape for his parents to…,god, he could feel his lunch trying to escape his stomach.

He resisted the foul sensation in his gut. "Well pla—"

"Jaune! Where are you!? Cece's being…ugh! Jaune!"

Jaune wilted a little inside when he heard Ellie's voice. She was getting closer. "Not again."

Mathias chuckled at his defeated expression. "Duty calls?"

"I wish duty would call. Maybe it would be less intense."

The patio door rocked in its tracks when Ellie flung it open.

Ellie was Jaune's closest sister in age. She was precisely one year and three days younger than him.

But she acted thrice as imperious as his older sisters. Even when added together. She had the Arc features, blond hair—although more golden than Jaune's—and blue eyes—the same shade as his.

Their eyes were different though, despite being the same shape and size. Jaune's eyes were the normal kind. Hers burned. All the time. Sometimes the blaze was brighter—but the blaze was never absent.

Right now, her twin lakes of fire were going pretty bright.

"Jaune! Cece's being a brat! She locked herself in her bedroom and she says she won't come out!"

Jaune stared at Ellie for a moment. She met his gaze without trouble. "Why are you telling me this? Dad's right…" Jaune faded off as he looked to his father. He was slumped over the table, eyes closed, a gentle snore escaping from between his lips.

Oh, this bastard.

Quiet enough so only his father could hear Jaune said, "that one of the parenting cues you took from mom?"

Mathias's only response was an especially loud snore that sounded like a stuffed laugh.

Jaune would have said more, if Ellie had not descended upon him. She grabbed his collar and yanked him towards the door. Jaune did not bother resisting. "I'm going, I'm going."

Ellie did not release her grip on his shirt until he was walking into the house ahead of her.

###

"What happened?" asked Jaune as they walked by Crystal and Alana.

His two older sisters were sprawled out across the couch, watching their favorite show, _The Real Housewives of the Mistralian Elite._ He shot them a dirty look as he passed by.

No doubt they had heard the ruckus. And seen Ellie stomping by calling Jaune's name.

Why weren't they handling this?

The two girls pretended he was made of glass.

"Cece had one of her fits. And now she's crying about something."

"Cece had a fit? Over what?" Jaune questioned further.

"How should I know? She just went off the deep end!"

Jaune was suspicious immediately. Cece was the happiest, most energetic, most positive member of their family. Hands down. No contest. She was also his favorite.

Not that he had favorites.

"So Cece locked herself in her room, and now she's crying. But you have no idea why?"

"None."

"Has nothing to do with you?" Jaune squinted at his abrasive sister.

"I didn't say that. I just said I have no idea why she's behaving the way she is."

"Ellie—" Jaune began.

Ellie cut him off. "I didn't do or say anything to Cece alright? I was having a…civil discussion with Aren about her treatment of Cece. Next thing I knew Cece was in tears about something or other."

Jaune sighed. Of course, it was a combination of Aren and Ellie who had caused all of this. The two fought constantly. In age, the two were separated by the twins, but they had been sharing a room for ten years since, obviously, the twins bunked together. Jaune shivered a bit when he thought of Paige and Mist, as if the two eclectic girls had created a way to watch him through his thoughts.

Who knew?

Perhaps they had.

"Aren was being a little mean to Cece. You blew up at her about it. Cece tried to break it up. You ignored her. Now she's upset," Jaune interpreted.

"Oversimplified…" rebuffed Ellie, "…but accurate enough."

Jaune paused when they reached the top of the steps. Cece's room was third in the long line of doors. She and Jaune were the only two Arc children who did not share a room. Jaune—being the only boy. Cece—being the youngest by four years in a family full of children born in pairs.

"Where's Aren?"

"She disappeared. She said Cece would get over it eventually."

"And _you_ came and got me."

Ellie huffed. "Well I couldn't just leave my little sister crying alone in her room, could I?"

Jaune smiled. As cold, aggressive, and downright arrogant as Ellie could be—was—, beneath the surface, she cared inordinately more than most.

Especially about her family.

"I knew there was a reason you're my second favorite sister."

"You mean aside from the fact that Cece is practically impossible to hate and that the rest of our siblings are absolutely useless wastes of space?"

"Ellie," said Jaune, with a tone indicating mock offense. "You're talking about the girls who practically raised us!"

Ellie glowered at him. "As if we would be this well-adjusted if the barbarians had a legitimate role in our upbringing."

Jaune's smile widened. A few days earlier Alana and Crystal had attempted to convince their mother that they should be allowed to do…something.

Neither Jaune nor Ellie were present for the beginning of the conversation.

But they both heard its end.

Alana claimed that she and Crystal needed to relax—after the stress of raising their siblings for more than a decade.

If Jaune had not been restraining her, Ellie would have stormed the room and laid into her errant older sisters right then.

Fortunately, he'd held Ellie back long enough for them to hear their mother break down into raucous laughter.

That had made the whole thing worth it for Jaune.

Seemed Ellie was still a little sore about it.

Who could have guessed?

"Stop smirking idiot."

Jaune rolled his eyes.

He knocked on Cece's door. There was no immediate response. "Cece? It's Jaune." He placed his ear against the door.

He heard rustling noises. A few seconds later Cece spoke.

"Jaune?"

"No _you're_ Cece. _I'm_ Jaune."

Cece giggled. Even Ellie's taut expression lightened when she heard it. Cece's laugh just had that effect.

"Hey Cece, I want to talk to you. Could you come out please?"

Cece answered quickly, "Sorry Juane. I can't. Sorry."

"Why not?", asked Jaune.

"I'm teaching Ellie and Aren a lesson."

Jaune gave Ellie a pointed look.

Ellie considered her words for a moment and then stepped closer to the door. "I learned my lesson Cece. I'm…I'm sorry."

Whoa. An apology? That was something only Cece could drag out of her.

Had Ellie ever apologized to Jaune?

Once.

Sort of.

Maybe?

"Where's Aren?" said Cece through the door.

Ellie replied through clenched teeth. She sounded like an Ursa gargling after a brush. "She left."

"Ah!" exclaimed Cece, "I can hear it! You still hate each other!"

"I don't hate Aren Cece. Just because we fought doesn't mean I hate her!"

Cece ignored Ellie's logic. "I'm not gonna open the door until you don't hate each other anymore!"

Ellie groaned and stomped away.

Jaune watched her go, surprised she'd given up so easily. He turned back towards the shut door. How was he going to finagle this? "How about this Cece…You don't come out…But I come in?"

"You want to come in?", confirmed Cece uncertainly.

"That's right. We can teach Ellie and Aren a lesson together."

Cece considered his proposal in silence.

"No!"

What? He'd had her. He was certain of it! "Why not?" he asked calmly.

"Cause you're Ellie's underwing!"

"What?" said Jaune.

"Aren says you used to be cool but now you're just Ellie's underwing."

Underwing? Ah. Underling. Aren was telling people that he was Ellie's underling. Well that just wasn't true. "Listen Ce—"

He was interrupted by a voice to his right. "Here." It was Ellie. His ukulele rested in her hands. "Sing her out."

"You know a song was coming to me, but it's more of a guitar piece."

Ellie pushed the ukulele into his hands, "modify it. You know Cece loves it when you play this."

Jaune took the instrument without further complaint. She was right, Cece did prefer it when he played the ukulele. Plus…Ellie had told him to and he felt as if he didn't have a choice in the matter.

Maybe he was an underling.

But Ellie was an absolute slave driver—why would he subject himself to that?

Was he…perhaps…

A masochist?

Huh.

Something to think about later, for sure.

"Cece, are you mad right now?"

"Yes," the girl huffed through the door.

"Okay, that's fine. But let's play a game."

"A game?" The girl's voice gained a perceivable perkiness as she replied. She returned to suspicion a few seconds later. " _What_ game?"

"It's simple," said Jaune, "I'm going to sing you a song. If you smile, I win. Then you open the door. If you don't smile, you win. And I'll bake you some treats to eat up here—whatever kind you want."

"Fudge, banana, walnut brownies?", questioned the girl.

Jaune shared a quick grimace with Ellie. The girl looked equally revolted by their baby sister's favorite dessert. "Sure thing."

"Alright," said Cece, eventually, "I'll play, but your song better not be funny! Or happy!"

Jaune rolled his eyes at that. "Ready?"

"Ready!"

 _Oh Cece…_

###

Mathias Arc stood on the steps, just outside of Jaune and Ellie's awareness.

Alana and Crystal had informed him that there'd been a fight or a spat or a murder upstairs, both claiming they were too tired from huntress training to go investigate.

Of course, training had been halted for the summer and would not resume for another week. The two girls had been lazing around for nearly two months.

When Mathias pointed out as much the two girls had explained that it was not recent training that had physically exhausted. But the mental exhaustion of an entire year. It was the kind of exhaustion that took months to recover from.

Mathias left the bull-shitters where they lay.

Mathias blamed the Arc genes.

There was too much talent in them.

The two girls could slack off for months on end and still go back to Atlas in the fall, standing at the top of their class—in combat at least.

That was how it had always been for the Arcs.

Easy.

Every Arc child in history took to killing Grimm like, well… to borrow his bastard of a father's terminology, a fish to water.

Not every Arc became a huntsman or a huntress. They were too old and large of a family for that to be true.

But most did.

And those that didn't embrace the choice Arc career were still athletic and graceful, a clear cut above civilians and even most professional athletes.

But as Mathias Arc stood on those steps, he could not help but think Jaune had been born with more talent than any other Arc—ever.

Sure. None of that talent was focused on combat. Or even strength or speed or grace. Jaune had endurance, but that was it.

And endurance alone made for a punching bag, not a warrior.

But despite all of that, as he listened to Jaune's lilting voice, crooning an amusing ditty about "Cece the superhero", realization dawned on him.

Jaune had something special.

His voice was…

Well…

It wasn't just good.

It was extraordinary.

It was unlike anything Mathias had heard before.

Jaune had something amazing.

Would Jaune give it all up if Mathias kept pushing? Would he give up his dream to make his parents proud? Would he abandoned what he loved to carry on a legacy he had not asked for nor wanted?

Possibly.

Probably even.

Jaune was always eager to please.

The more Mathias considered it the surer he became.

Yes.

Yes, he would.

Jaune would give up everything for them.

And there was something distinctly intolerable about that truth. It tasted dirty in Mathias's mouth. It felt like bile going down and burned like acid in his belly.

When Jaune's song came to an end and Cece reluctantly exited her room, complaining, "you weren't allowed to make it funny!" Matthias turned and quietly padded down the stairs.

He went straight to the kitchen. His wife was hard at work—dinner for ten was never a simple affair.

She smiled at him when he entered and then returned her attention to the meal she was preparing. "Do you know where Ellie went? She was helping me but then…"

"Justice rang and she never misses a call?" supplied Mathias.

Willow's soft smile deepened. "Exactly."

"She and Jaune are looking after Cece."

"Ah." She tasted some sauce and then deposited the used spoon in the sink. "Could you tell Alana and Crystal to come help me then?"

"It would take an act of Oum to get those two off the T.V." Mathias began rolling up his sleeves, "I'll help you."

"Thank you. Although, if you told Alana and Crystal I needed their help I'm sure they would turn off the T.V.

Left unsaid was the implication that she would _destroy_ the T.V. if they did not.

"It's fine. I have something I need to talk with you about anyway."

"Oh? So do I. You first."

"Well…It's Jaune."

"Shocking," she teased with a grin.

"I think…well I think it's time we show it to him."

Willow froze. "You want to—"

"Yes," he interrupted, "I'm done trying to turn him into something he's not. He was clearly born to do it. I'll be damned before I get in the way of that any more than I already have. Let's do it tonight."

Willow's smile was all love and joy. Warmth spread through Mathias's chest. Why was it when she smiled—really smiled—he turned into a little boy?

"I'll call a family meeting after dinner. Make sure the video camera is charged. I want the look on his face recorded."

"You know—"

It was Willow's turn to cut him off. "Yes, I know scrolls have cameras Mathias. But I want the video to look good. After all, this could be in a documentary one day."

Mathias chuckled at the thought. "I'll go plug it in then. What was it you wanted to tell me?"

Willow paused. "Ah. That's right. Could you go check on the twins? I heard them whispering something about 'twincest' and giggling earlier."

Mathias froze. He could feel the color leaking out of his face. "W-what?"

"I said 'twincest' dear. It's incest, only with—"

"I gathered!" Mathias exclaimed.

Willow raised an amused brow when she saw his flustered expression. "I don't think it's quite what you're imagining Matt. Paige and Mist, alone—"

"Stop!" Mathias held up a shaking hand.

"—whatever it is they're planning definitely involves Jaune…"

If it was even possible for Mathias to discolor more...

Then he did.

Willow let him die inside for a little longer before saying, "I'm sure it's another one of their pranks Matt. Oum. I just want you to make sure they don't destroy anything again."

Prank? The word revitalized the huntsman, sending a jolt of relief through him.

Of course, prank.

That made sense.

Prank.

Still… Mathias clenched his fists as he remembered what his father had told him when he was a kid.

He had been complaining about training at the time.

 _"You'd best stop whining ya' brat! This is already a hundred times softer than my training was. You're lucky you were born now and not in the times of our ancestors. Sure there were Grimm aplenty back then. But…"_

 _The old man smiled maliciously._

 _"You'd also be married to Mel!"_

 _"What!?" a voice roared before Mathias could assemble a thought._

 _Mathias glanced over at Mel, struggling under her own brutal training regime._

 _It took Mathias near a minute to comprehend what his bastard of a father had just said. "What!?" he roared._

 _"Bloodline purity. Blah. Blah. Blah. My point is stop acting like you've got it hard. Both of you. But especially you Mathias."_

 _Mathias stared at his sister with horror. She looked similarly disgusted._

 _"How could they?" asked Mel._

 _Their father was unusually silent for a moment. "Well…apparently…it was…easier for some Arcs than others."_

 _"What?"_

 _The bastard looked uncomfortable, scratching his blonde beard uncertainly. Even as he gave his usual beloved self-indulgent explanation, stressing the greatness of the Arc line—he looked as if he'd rather be talking about something else. "Well… it can be difficult for an Arc to find a suitable partner, given the magnificence of the Arc line…so…selecting a partner from within the line was…" He trailed off._

 _Mathias just stared at his father, waiting for him to finish._

 _"He's saying our ancestors were related and didn't even need encouragement to smash._ _ **And**_ _he's saying it's an Arc thing."_

 _Mathias looked away from Mel, towards his father. There was no way_ _ **that's**_ _what his dad was saying was there?_

 _Rictus Arc, a man who had stared down Goliaths, Dragons, and terrors Mathias had not even heard of..._

 _…would not meet his eyes._

 _"What the f—"_

"Mathias!"

Mathias Arc returned to his kitchen, to the present, to his wife, who was not, as far as he knew, in any way related to him. "Huh?"

"You've been staring into the distance for more than a minute now. Are you okay?"

"Fine," Mathias lied. "I'm gonna go check on the twins."

"Don't forget about the camera," Willow called after him.

Mathias took the stairs two at a time.

###

"You forgot to charge the camera," whispered Willow, a hint of exasperation present in her voice.

Mathias winced. His voice was low as he replied, "I'm sorry. I went to check on the twins, and I realized it had been a while since I had a good talk with them and I just…"

"Did that talk set your mind at ease?" asked Willow.

"Not at all," answered Mathias, "I completely regret having it, and I am now twice as concerned."

Willow covered her smile with a hand. Of course, the conversation had only made things worse. Those girls had detected his distress and immediately set out to make it worse. That was what they did. They messed with people. Jaune was their favorite target, but they'd settle for Mathias any day. She would have her own talk with them later, since Mathias seemed so concerned. And if they tried to play around with her…

She'd _break_ their game.

"We can deal with that later. For now…" She quieted as she watched their two eldest daughters arrived the room.

Willow surveyed her family. Jaune and Ellie were seated on the small couch on the far side of the room. Jaune was relaxed, an acoustic guitar in hand. Ellie was, as always, more rigid, dedicated to maintaining her posture even in the least formal of environments. Cece was seated in Ellie's lap, and, although Ellie's steely face gave few signs, Willow could tell the older girl was pleased by her baby sister's presence. Aren's hair was freshly curled, and the robe she was wearing revealed one shaved leg and another half. Little wonder she looked irritated by the unannounced meeting. Crystal and Alana were sprawled out across the larger couch. The two reprobates produced their scrolls immediately. That was fine, Willow would make sure they put them away when she wanted them to. Paige and Mist were sat in front of the couch. The pair adopted near identical poses. Mist had Paige's hand in hers. She was nibbling on her sister's knuckles, moving from joint to joint, tongue occasionally darting out to make the contact all the more explicit. And she was looking very pointedly at Mathias. Paige had her hand on Mist's thigh and her eyes locked on her sister. She kept biting her lip in an exaggerated fashion, as if she was enthralled by Mist's ministrations.

Mathias was literally looking anywhere but his third and fourth daughter.

Yep.

Mathias's conversation had shown weakness, a critical error for a parent of a brood this size. Not only had he bled in the water. He'd started bleeding in front of the two biggest predators in the lake.

Second biggest.

Second biggest predators in the lake.

Sometimes one forgot to add oneself to the list.

Willow smiled at her identical daughters.

It was not a smile of encouragement. It was a dare.

The two, wisely, did not accept.

Mist dropped Paige's hand the moment her eyes met her mothers.

Willow continued to smile at her.

Mist nudged her sister. Paige noticed her mother's face. Suddenly there were a few more inches between the girls and their hands were being kept to themselves.

Willow was almost disappointed by the easy resolution. It had been a while since one of her children had accepted taken the challenge.

Perhaps…

Could it be…?

Were they…

Were they learning?

Shocking.

The ability to learn was something she had come to expect only from three-eighths of her children.

"Kids," Willow began, "I promise this won't take up much of your time. Your father and I just felt the whole family should be here for this."

Alana raised her hand.

"It's not a baby announcement. Your father and I are done."

Alana dropped her hand, muttering, "Never heard _that_ before."

Willow ignored her. "Jaune."

Jaune looked up from his guitar. "Mom?"

"Your father and I have something to…show you." She reached behind her, producing a thick white envelope.

Jaune's brows were downturned. He had the same confused expression as his father. Willow loved how much her son took after her husband.

"A few months ago, your father and I decided to send some videos of you playing to… a friend of a friend."

"The dean of The Vale Academy of the Arts," inserted Mathias.

Jaune's eyes bugged and his mouth widened. " _The Vale Academy of the Arts_!?" he exclaimed.

"That's right," said Willow, eating up her son's excitement.

"Is that their response?" asked Jaune, voice wavering as he set aside his guitar.

"Mhmm," replied his mother, "want to know what it says?" She waved the envelope back and forth.

Jaune's eyes tracked it, unblinking. Every eye in the room was on him, even Mist's and Paige's.

"I. Um. Well, yes. I want to know what it says but…" He looked at his father. "Does it matter?"

Mathias met his eyes unflinchingly. "I told you Jaune, every choice you can implement is open to you."

"But you also said I had to think about my gift and my calling and my responsibilities as an Arc..." said Jaune.

Mathias hummed, clearly pleased that his son had been listening. "I did say that. And I meant it. And I believe it. But I've been trying to bend that advice. Make it so that it affects you the same way it affected me. That's not fair. You shouldn't be bound by some ancient legacy your great great great great great grandfather established. Your gift is music. Your responsibility, your duty—the only way you can make sure your blessing doesn't go to waste—is to become a musician. The greatest musician the Arc line has ever seen."

Willow watched her son's face as Mathias spoke. His emotions had yet to spill over the top. He was still in shock. Surprise was etched onto him as if it had been placed there by his sculptor. A Beowolf could have charged into the room at that moment. She doubted Jaune would have flinched.

"What about the Arc legacy?" asked Jaune, in a daze.

"Eh," responded Mathias, "One of your older sisters will just have to keep her last name when they get married to an Arc approved man."

Alana and Crystal had words for their father, but Willow paid them no mind. She kept her attention focused on her son's frozen face.

"Jaune?" she prompted.

"Uh," replied Jaune.

Willow strode forward, elbow locked, letter extended. "Here."

Jaune accepted the letter with all the haste of molasses. "Thanks," he said absent-mindedly.

Willow, along with the rest of the Arc family, watched Jaune in silence. He, in turn, stared at the envelope in his hands, making no move to open it.

After nearly two minutes of inaction Ellie prompted Cece to get off her lap. "For goodness sake." With little spectacle, she snatched the envelope from her brother. Before anyone could stop her she tore open the parcel.

"Ellie!" Aren raged, as put off by Ellie's abrasiveness as ever. Ellie paid no mind to her younger sister.

Willow could have stopped her. She could have stopped her with a word.

But—goddamnit!—she wanted to know what the letter said too!

Ellie unfolded the paper but, in a surprising display of restraint, did not read, instead she thrust it back at Jaune. "Don't leave us in suspense moron."

Jaune snapped back into reality at that. He accepted the letter.

"Out loud, Jaune," Willow encouraged.

"I-I can't," said Jaune.

Ellie's restraint vanished. She snatched the letter back. She read in a high and clear voice.

" _Dear Mr. Arc, we here at the VAA enjoyed your audition videos tremendously. As you may be aware, our student base is primarily comprised of musicians who have received intense musical training since early childhood. And even then, many of those so-called prodigies do not pass our screening process._

 _For this, you should have no small measure of pride. You passed our screening process by a spectacular margin. After the screening process, our upper staff members had the opportunity to watch your videos._

 _I do not exaggerate when I say that the teachers of VAA are the greatest musicians of this generation, lauded from all corners of remnant. They are the best artists and critics to be found in the field._

 _It is these elites, these giants, that you enthralled with your voice, instrument handling, and composition._

 _We pride ourselves on accepting only the best of the best—the elite of the elite._

 _Therefore, Mr. Arc, it is my pleasure to invite you to The Vale Academy of the Arts._

 _We look forward to helping you grow._

 _We will see you on the 29th._

 _-D. August_ "

The Arc family exploded all at once. Willow could not contain her glee. Her son was going to the VAA!

Mathias was grinning from ear to ear.

Cece was cheering.

Aren was smiling at her older brother, with a rare dose of genuine affection.

Alana and Crystal were joking about how well they had raised him.

Mist and Paige were crawling towards him—only Oum knew what they were about to do.

Ellie was…well she was looking at Jaune with concern. Willow followed her worried gaze. The mother-of-eight's smile wilted when she saw her baby boy's expression. She expected tears of joy, a smile, laughter, maybe disbelief—maybe even an excited dance. She expected many things from her expressive son.

The conflicted expression, wavering between sadness and happiness was not among her expectations.

He didn't know how to feel. He was confused. Willow could see that much.

But why?

Wasn't this what he wanted?

A few seconds later, Jaune schooled his features. He smiled, although his usually goofy grin looked fake, plastic, and artificial.

Ellie had noticed. Had anyone else? Willow observed her other family members. It didn't seem they had. They offered various congratulations. Mist hopped into Jaune's lap and kissed his cheek—much to Mathias's obvious horror. His horror only doubled when Paige did the same thing from the other side.

Willow did not have to step in, since one of the twin's hair happened to flick into Ellie's face.

Ellie bodily removed them both, reprimanding, "don't be obnoxious."

That was her little force of nature, Ellie, the only girl among her offspring Willow trusted to become a mother. Well, there was Cece too, but she was too young to really tell. Next best after her would be…

Jaune?

"Guys this is amazing, so amazing…" said Jaune. Willow could barely hear him over the roar.

Before she could command the room to be quiet Ellie took control.

"Hey!" she shouted. The room went silent.

Willow expected Ellie to allow Jaune to speak.

But when she took control, she took _complete_ control.

"Jaune is obviously very excited about his acceptance into The Vale Academy of the Arts. _As he should be_ ," she growled that bit, "but he wasn't feeling very well before this meeting, and he's clearly only getting sicker. So," she stood, gripping Jaune's arm, forcing him to follow her, "he's going to bed."

"I a—?"

"Say goodnight."

"Goodnight…?"

Ellie bent, picked up Jaune's guitar, and then the two were gone, Ellie marching to her own beat as always. And Jaune dragged along to her tune, as per usual.

The rest of the Arcs remained quiet when the two disappeared.

Willow had never been prouder of one of her daughters than she was at that moment.

The rest were probably taken aback by the sudden exit.

Aren was the first to break the silence.

"Guess sick leave isn't optional for Ellie's underlings. You should take that into consideration before you sign up Cece."

###

Jaune stumbled after Ellie all the way to his room. She practically threw him inside, gently closing the door behind them.

"What the hell was that!?" she hissed.

"W-what?", asked Jaune, uncertain why his sister sounded so angry. He was also disconcerted by how easily he had allowed himself to be extracted from the gathering downstairs.

"You just got accepted into the best music school in the country, something you've literally been dreaming about your _entire_ life, but you look like someone just snapped your guitar over their knee."

Jaune noticed his guitar, still firmly within his irate sister's grip. His eyes widened. Surely, she wouldn't…

Ellie followed his panicked gaze down to the instrument in her hands. She scoffed. "I'm not going to break your guitar you idiot." She handed him the guitar and strode towards his bed. She sat down with her normal flawless posture, back straight, spine perfectly aligned. She adjusted her light blue skirt and then rested one leg on top of the other.

She almost looked like a young teacher, staring down a miscreant child. The illusion was only ruined by the casualness of her bare feet.

"Tell me what's wrong."

It was not a request.

Sure, Jaune could have resisted. He could have told her he was fine.

But that would just turn into a power struggle. And the only Arc who could outlast Ellie in a battle of willpower was their mother. And the only reason that contest didn't just turn into a stalemate was because of Ellie's utmost respect for the matriarch. Ellie was the only one in the family, who "conceded" to her. Everyone else was just…

Conquered.

"You're right, I should be happy. I should be excited. I should be…"

"Ecstatic."

"Yeah. Ecstatic," Jaune repeated.

"So, why aren't you?"

Jaune stared up at the ceiling, trying to sort his thoughts. The Vale Academy of the Arts wanted him.

Jaune.

Jaune Arc.

Dabbler in the arts—at best.

It was a dream wrapped in a dream riding on a wish.

And that letter, it sounded as if it had been personally written. Maybe by the dean. Maybe by the dean's assistant. Maybe every potential student was sent a custom letter.

It didn't matter.

What mattered is what it made him feel.

Validated. Justified. Special.

And yet…

All of those wonderful positive emotions.

And he still couldn't feel happy.

Why was that?

"Dad's been on me a lot lately, about the responsibilities of being an Arc. About my calling, my destiny. All of that. Keeps shouting at me about it when we're training."

"And?"

"I'm pretty terrible at it. Training that is. Dad says I can take a beating but can't dish one. He's right. I'm a terrible fighter."

"Does that matter? You want to be a musician. Your fighting ability is irrelevant."

"Yeah, that's what I keep telling him. 'I'm not a fighter! I'm not a warrior!'." Jaune shook his head. "But there's this one word he keeps throwing around that I can't get out of my head."

"Let me guess," said Ellie, "'hero'."

"No it's—how'd you know?"

"You used to talk about being a hero all the time Jaune, before you fell in love with music. Even now you still occasionally bring it up."

"Oh."

"So, let me get this straight." Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "You want to be a huntsman now?"

"No!" Jaune nearly shouted. "At least, I don't think so. It's just. Dad basically said he was fine with me pursuing music down there. And that's great! But what if he was right all along? What if it really is my destiny to be a hero? To help people? Are people going to die because I was selfish? Am I not going to have the strength to stand when _someone_ needs to? When it seemed like dad was going to force me to be a huntsman, I wasn't happy per say. But it was out of my hands. I was letting the cards fall where they may. And it just so happened they were falling in a way where I'd be strong enough to protect the people important to me. Now it feels like mom and dad just handed me the deck and said, 'deal yourself a hand!' And I don't know what to do. Do I accept destiny? Do I reject it, and make my own way?"

Ellie sighed. "You don't actually believe in this destiny nonsense do you Jaune?"

"What if I do?" said Jaune, more than a little defensive.

"Let the cards fall where they may…" Ellie repeated his words in quiet consideration. "Alright Jaune. You want to be led by destiny or fate or whatever, right?"

Jaune nodded, although he was still put-off by her dismissive tone.

"Fine then. Get on your computer. Right now."

His sister's tone brokered no argument. Jaune scrambled to obey. He sat down at his desk, pushing his sound board and mixers aside as he started his computer.

"Go to the website for a combat school," said Ellie. "What's the one in Vale?"

"Beacon," said Jaune.

"Okay, go there, and click on admissions. They probably have a form or something right?"

"Ellie, admissions to Beacon probably closed months ago."

"Doesn't matter," replied Ellie. "We'll send in your application anyway. Then you can rest easy, 'let the cards fall where they may.' Your talent and passion for music got you into the best music school on Remnant. Let's see if your lackluster fighting skills and pathetic absence of experience can get you into a high-level combat school. If being a heroic huntsman is really your destiny—I'm sure fate or Oum or someone will make a way."

It didn't take long for Jaune to find Beacon's admission page. As predicted the top of the page had a red warning, indicating Beacon's admission period had ended four months prior. Still, it looked like he'd be able to fill out and submit the form—even if no one ever looked at it.

"This is crazy," muttered Jaune as he typed in his basic information. His name. His birth date. His blood type. His email address. There were a few other fields. All basic stuff.

Once he finished with his personal information the questions got harder. "It asks for my previous combat school."

"Make something up," said Ellie without hesitation. "This school's called Beacon. Your old one was called…Signpost."

"Signpost…" repeated Jaune. He laughed as he typed it in. "That's pretty good."

"It wants three references from the school."

"Me, myself, and I," suggested Ellie.

Jaune laughed much harder this time as he followed her suggestion. "Am I even trying to get accepted?"

"Jaune, the only way you're getting accepted into Beacon is if they've got a music program. But at least now you can tell Destiny you threw it a bone. Okay?"

Jaune smiled at his sister. The smile she returned was several sizes smaller than his but massive for her.

"Now, how long is this application?"

Juane glanced at the numbers on the bottom of the page. "There's twenty-one more sections."

Ellie turned and stretched herself across his bed. "Looks like this will be a long night. Let's come back to the boring stuff. Is there anything more interesting to fill?"

Jaune scrolled through the sections. "Here's an essay question, describe your weapon and how you would wield it in a fight against three Beowolfs."

He looked back at Ellie, his witty muse. She lifted a leg towards the ceiling, pointing her toes as she thought. "Let's make your weapon a pencil. A sharp pencil…"

Jaune grinned as he typed.

He could always trust Ellie to bring him out of a slump.

###

Jaune awoke with a moan. His neck was sore, as was his back. Where had he fallen asleep?

Oh right. His desk. He wiggled his computer mouse, bring his screen out of hibernation.

He glanced behind him Ellie was fast asleep, head resting on one of his two pillows, the other clutched to her chest like a stuffed animal.

She looked so calm and delicate when she was asleep. It was a stark contrast from reality. The girl began to stir and fidget. Was just looking enough to rouse her from sleep?

Jaune turned back to his computer. A notification at the bottom of his screen caught his attention.

He had an email.

Jaune clicked on the icon. He was vaguely aware of Ellie yawning, stretching, and sitting up behind him.

"Good morning Jaune."

Jaune did not reply.

"Jaune, I said good morning."

Still, Jaune remained silent, his attention glued to the screen, his eyes flickering across the words before him.

Ellie, ready for a fight even fresh from sleep, stood and stalked over to him. "Jaune, I s—"

"Ellie," Jaune interrupted. "Read this."

His sister stared at the email over his shoulder. He watched her face. Her expression transformed from irritated, to intrigued, to shocked. Her eyes were dilated. Her lips were pursed.

"Well Jaune, you shouldn't have left this up to destiny. Destiny apparently likes to screw with Arcs."

"What am I going to do?" asked Jaune.

"Don't ask me. You're on your own," said Ellie.

Jaune could tell she didn't mean it.

Because she didn't leave his side.

He turned back to his monitor, rereading the damning message.

He'd thrown fate a fastball.

Fate had smacked him in the face with a bat.

 _Rictus,_

 _Is the new Arc generation here already?_

 _Oum forbid, are we getting old?_

 _Anyway…_

 _What is this application? At least with Mathias and Mel you tried to forge the transcript. This, I can't even pretend to be fooled by._

 _Honestly, I'm not sure why you would send another Arc warrior here. Mathias and Mel were already the level of fourth year students by the time they started Beacon._

 _I understand that the title of Beacon graduate carries weight in this world…_

 _But enduring the training of Rictus Arc should be considered equivalent to graduating from Beacon, or higher even, after all, the risks we allow our students to take is nothing compared to the abuse your pupils undergo._

 _I still remember Mathias's "flashback" problem._

 _All of this said, of course Jaune Arc is welcome at Beacon. It will require some work, making the necessary arrangements. And turning this lazy admission form into a forgery that will deceive Glynda will take several hours that could be better spent…_

 _And will also require me to risk being hamstrung._

 _Have your protégé to Beacon by the 29th of this month. That way he can begin showing up other students and "building the Arc name for a new generation." Or whatever it is you'll be having him do at school._

 _Am I correct in assuming you did not bother to teach this one restraint either?_

 _At least we'll have an Arc around again to keep everyone else humble._

 _Airships for the school leave at 8:00 AM._ _Don't miss initiation. Not again._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Ozpin_

Jaune's head hit his keyboard.

Destiny was a bitch.

 **This chapter was just the introduction. It's going to get more interesting, I promise!**

 **As always, no time to edit thoroughly and no beta so...eek.**

 **Let me know what you think about this fic.**

 **Once again. Update schedule, my profile. Check it out.**

 **Follow, Review, Favorite, whatever.**

 **Next Chapter: September 20th**

 **For those wondering (I'll put these at the end of their respective fics in the future)**

 **The Shield of Vale Next Chapter: September 16th**

 **The Port Chronicles Next Chapter: September 23rd**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, this was supposed to be posted on Wednesday. Then I had a killer day. This is literally my first chance to touch a computer And now it's 11:50… Well, still technically Wednesday. So promise kept!**

 **So, two people I.M.'d me, asking if I the mystery ship was Jaune x Biological Sister. Well, one asked, one just declared how excited he was to see it.**

 **I responded to them both—how could I not? But I thought I'd still mention it here.**

 **Um…well the ship is still a secret.**

 **So I'm not confirming or denying** ** _any_** **possibilities.**

 **But...generally speaking, I'm not going to pair characters with O.C.'s. And I'm even less likely—like exponentially so—to go out of my way to write a love interest O.C. who is also the main character's sister.**

 **To those of you who are disappointed by my declaring that particular ship INFINITELY UNLIKELY…**

 **Well…**

 **Maybe I'll write a dream sequence one shot or something.**

 **But as someone who has younger sisters…**

 **Blergh.**

 **I hope that wasn't a very common hope amongst readers.**

 **To the guy who sent me the message "JAUNE DOESNT KNO HES ADOPTED BUT HE IS THE HAREM BENIGS"**

 **Um…yeah.**

 **We'll see.**

 **To the guy whose message included the words "I'm so sick of fics with one-sided incestuous feelings for comedic effect that never amount to anything."**

 **If all you're looking for is incest, you're probably not going to like this fic.**

 **That said, I dedicate this chapter to guy#2.**

 **Enjoy the incest jokes while they last.**

 **As usual, no beta, no problems.**

 **Without further ado,**

 **Guitar Huntsman**

 **Chapter 2**

Guitar Huntsman Chapter 2

"Hey," called Ellie.

Her brother did not react.

"Jaune?"

His blank gaze remained locked on his screen.

Ellie leaned closer, not yelling, but sufficiently close to the boy's ear to come off louder. "Jaune!"

Jaune whirled, faster than she expected. She jerked back to avoid butting heads. She would have fallen had Jaune not caught her arm.

"Sorry," Jaune apologized hastily, "I was just…"

"Thinking?"

He nodded.

Ellie observed her idiot brother, beginning to feel a bit exasperated.

So, he'd woken up to an acceptance email from the Headmaster of Beacon.

Okay. It was unexpected, yes. And it meant her plan had backfired, in a big way.

This was her fault but…but…

That didn't quite seem fair.

How was she to know that applying months beyond registration, a few days before the beginning of the school year, with zero experience, joke answers, and no diploma would result in immediate acceptance and a personal email from the Headmaster?

How could she have known?

Answer, she couldn't. She couldn't have known.

Besides…

Did Jaune _need_ to take all this so seriously? Her brother was a musician—a good one. No, scratch that. A great one. He could sing. He could play. He could write. And he could do all those things on an insane level. How much better would Jaune be after four years at VAA?

He'd probably be world renown before he even graduated.

At least, that was Ellie's opinion. She might have been a little biased.

Ellie glanced down at the hand latched onto her arm. Jaune's fingertips were rough and calloused, but his palms were soft.

They felt different than her dad's. Mathias's hands were rough from tip to wrist, especially his sword-hand.

Those were the hands of a warrior, hands that were meant to wield a weapon, to cut down foes.

These…these were the hands of something else. They felt bigger than they looked, and his grip was stronger than she remembered, and he supported her weight without much effort…but he was still no huntsman. His hands were the instruments of a performer, a romanticist, a lover. They were worth a hundred huntsman—no a thousand.

There was no way in Remnant she was going to let him ruin these hands chasing some made-up self-instilled destiny nonsense. Come to think of it…

She stared at where she and her brother were connected a little harder.

She didn't really want to relinquish these hands to the Vale Academy of the Arts either.

The more she examined those feelings the more assured she became of one undeniable certainty.

"I need a boyfriend," she muttered, gently removing her arm from Jaune's grip.

"What?" asked Jaune. "Did you say boyfriend?"

"No," said Ellie, "I said you need to stop."

"Stop what?" questioned Jaune.

"Thinking, you idiot. I encourage most people to do more of it but apparently its bad for _your_ health."

"But—" began Jaune.

Ellie cut him off with a wave of her hand. She took her time speaking though, returning to his bed and getting comfortable before she began.

"Jaune, that email doesn't mean anything."

"How can it not mean anything!? It's an acceptance letter from the Headmaster of Beacon!"

"Sorry, you're right," replied Ellie, "it means something. It means the Headmaster of Beacon is mentally unstable and so is our Grandpa from the look of it. I guess, in a way, even though you look terrible, sending in that application was a good idea, now we have another reason to say no to Beacon—unfit leadership."

"How could this Ozpin guy run one of the top combat schools in the world and be 'unfit?'" asked Jaune.

"Thank god neither of us need to answer that question. You like music, not fighting. Beacon's not even on the table. Right?"

When Jaune remained silent she became a little more forceful. "Repeat after me Jaune, Beacon's… not… even… on… the… table."

"I like helping people though," said Jaune. "You're right, I'm not a fighter but—"

"You'll help people with your music Jaune," interrupted Ellie. "You'll help a lot more people by making beautiful music than you will by getting yourself killed trying to be something you're not."

"So, you think I'll die if I try to be a Huntsman huh?" said Jaune. He didn't look or sound surprised just… defeated. "You know, the whole-time dad's been training me I was thinking, 'it's impossible, there's no way, I'm not made for this…'but I guess, at some point, I started to believe him. Pretty stupid huh?"

"No."

"No?" repeated Jaune.

"No," Ellie confirmed.

"No what?"

"You are misunderstanding me. I was not saying you can't become a huntsman. I think dad's right, you could be a huntsman if you wanted to be one. When I said you'll get yourself killed trying to be something you're not, I was talking about going to Beacon in two days. Beacon is an upper-level school, it's for people who are already huntsmen and huntresses. You could be a huntsman. But you aren't one. You're going to get hurt if you pretend."

"Oh," said Jaune.

"And I am also saying you'll never be as great a huntsman as you are a musician. Not because I don't think you can become a good huntsman—but because you're just _that_ talented with music."

Jaune looked down, scratching his head. He always got like this when he was embarrassed. Ellie wasn't one to label her sibling's actions "cute"—with the notable exception of Cece because that girl was a bubbling pot of adorableness—but the slight tinge of red around her brother's cheeks and his bashful attempt to suppress his smile was certainly…

Something.

Oum, she needed a boyfriend yesterday.

The problem was most of the boy's at her school were terrified of her, probably worried that she'd point out and correct their ineptness—which she would. She needed someone gentle, kind, and moldable—but not weak-spined. She didn't mind helping her partner manage life, in fact she probably wouldn't be happy in the relationship if she couldn't help them manage life. But they needed to have strength—not the flaunted obnoxious kind but, rather, the ability to take control of a situation when circumstances required a firm hand.

And hands. They needed to have nice hands.

Musicality was good too.

Hell.

Was she turning into Paige and Mist?

Was she even worse, since the twins were just joking, about being attracted to their brother?

No, no. This was just normal teen puberty hormonal weirdness.

But, still, maybe it was time for her to get out of this room. That closed door was beginning to feel a little suffocating.

"Listen, Jaune—what time is it?"

Jaune wiggled his mouse, bringing his monitor back to life. "Seven-thirty-one."

"You've got two days until VAA initiation. All day today and all day tomorrow. You'll be tempted to agonize over fate or destiny or whatever, but I won't let you. I'll keep you out of your own stupid head even if it means keeping an eye on you twenty-four-seven. You won't even remember getting that moronic email by the time I'm done with you."

Ellie watched the tension leak out of Jaune's brow, an easy smile gradually replacing the tight-lipped grimace he'd been sporting. Great, now that he had calmed down a bit she could leave. She could go take a _very_ cold shower.

"It'll be just like old times, huh?" said Jaune, his smile turned fond, "when we played all day together, then we bathed together, then we had sleepovers, literally together twenty-four-seven."

Ellie wasn't so much smiling or laughing as she was trying to disguise the heat in her face. "Yes, well, it won't be just like old times."

"Of course not," said Jaune with a laugh. His laugh ended suddenly, his face suddenly serious. "Bathtub would be a little tight."

Ellie had never been happier to hear a few gentle knocks in her entire life. She sprinted towards the exit. Mathias was still lowering his knuckles when Ellie yanked open the door.

"Dad," she said.

Her father stared at her for a moment, eyes flickering across her flushed cheeks, tossed hair and bare legs. Then he shook his head, as if trying to banish some outrageous thought.

He was probably reminding himself that this was Ellie, not the twins. Why the hell did those two have to put their father on edge so often?

"Ell-Bell."

Ellie flashed him a smile. Ell-Bell. She liked the nickname. That said, it wasn't something she would allow many to call her. None of her sisters had the right. The only reason one of them would use her pet-name was because they were looking for a fight.

Cece, of course, was given an exception on all accounts.

She would probably be okay with her future husband calling her that.

She _definitely_ wouldn't mind Jaune giving it a try.

No.

Switch those two.

Oum, switch them.

Mathias leaned into the room. "How are you feeling son?"

Jaune shot him a smile. "Much better, Ellie's been taking good care of me."

Mathias chuckled. "Well she is the only girl in this family your mom has given a stamp of approval for motherhood."

"I'd not heard that," said Ellie, a surge of pleasure ran through her at the words.

"Right," said Mathias with a visible wince. "That's because I was told that in confidence. And your sisters _cannot_ ever hear about it."

"Worried Crystal and Alana would rebel by getting pregnant?" asked Ellie with a small grin.

"Adoption," he replied, perhaps, a little too quickly. "Pregnancy would require having sex," his eyes became distant, focused on some imaginary act of violence, "no way _that_ would ever happen…"

Ellie watched her father trail off, still trapped in whatever vision of violence he had created. It started to feel awkward. She cleared her throat.

Mathias returned to reality as if he had never left. "You left so quickly last night we didn't get the chance to give you the second half of your present."

"There was more?" asked Jaune.

Ellie was just as curious as Jaune sounded. It'd be hard to top or even accent the gift of acceptance into the VAA.

"Yep, I was going to come by and give it to you last night, but your mom thought it was best to let you catch your breath—especially since you weren't feeling well. I'm glad you're feeling better now, since you'll need to hurry."

"Hurry?" asked Jaune. "What for?"

Mathias produced two slips of paper. One was small. It looked like a ticket. The other was a full printout. "Because your train leaves at twelve-forty-five and you need to pack. Factoring in the time it'll take to get to the station and adding in the fact that all of your sisters are going to want some time to say goodbye…" Mathias looked down at his invisible watch, "I'd say you've only got about two and a half hours to figure out what you're taking with you to your new life in Vale."

Ellie glanced from her dad's proud smile to Jaune's slowly descending jaw.

He managed to clamp his mouth shut after a few seconds of incredulity.

But he could not stop the torrent of words that followed.

"W-what? But school doesn't start until the twenty-ninth… Why would I—why so soon…?"

"I thought it would be a good idea for you to have a couple days of experience living on your own, so…" He handed Jaune the printout. "I got you a hotel room. It'll give you a few days to see the city, and get used to being your own man."

"This is all paid for already…isn't it?"

Mathias scratched the back of his head, a mannerism to the two male Arc's shared. "Sorry, when I originally planned it in my head you got all your packing done the night before."

Ellie was certain the timing wasn't what bothered Jaune.

"But don't worry. You've got the pack-master here to help you," he motioned to Ellie. "Plus, you can say goodbye to Ell-Bell first. Two birds, one stone."

"Ah," was all Jaune managed to say.

"Mom is cooking your favorite breakfast. The more packing you can get done before we eat, the better."

"Got it," replied Jaune automatically.

And then Mathias was gone, whistling down the hall.

Ellie approached her brother. He was once again staring at his dark computer screen. She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

He rotated in his chair, fixing her with a blank stare. "You said I'd have two days to sort all of this out."

"Are you _sure_ I didn't say two hours?"

"You said you'd be by my side twenty-four-seven."

Was that what she had said? She didn't think so. That sounded several levels too intimate to have been her exact wording. "Are you asking me to come with you to Vale?"

Jaune stared at her with silent consideration for a moment. Eventually he said, "no, I'm being too much of a brat as it is. I'm making your problem my problem. It sucks that I won't have time to bust out my guitar before I leave though. I think best when…"

Ellie missed the rest of Jaune's words. Her brain edited over him with her own voice.

For that moment…

That moment when Jaune had stared at her quietly…

She had _not_ started working on the complex problem of journeying with him to Vale.

She had _not_ begun cataloguing potential excuses to her parents for her going along.

She _wasn't_ estimating the costs of a train ticket.

 _Nor_ was she figuring out the sleeping arrangements of Jaune's, potentially one bed room.

She hadn't done any of that.

Because that would make her crazy.

Ellie Arc couldn't be crazy.

She was the normal one.

She was a perfectionist, but _only_ to a normal extent.

She was aggressive, but not _that_ much above average.

She loved her family dearly, maybe more than most—but certainly not _that_ much.

This was her perfectionism's fault. She had noticed her own affinity for her brother, admittedly, slightly unusual in its amount—and then her natural tendency for hyper-criticality had blown the issue out of perspective.

She was reading too much into it.

She wasn't going with Jaune to Vale. That was certain. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

The only question was whether that was because she recognized that, as his little sister she couldn't let him rely on her forever.

Or…

Because she was disconcerted by how much she enjoyed having him rely on her.

She could really use that shower right about now.

But first she needed to help Jaune, _her brother_ , pack and get ready.

Ellie was brought back to reality by Jaune pulling off his favorite Pumpkin Pete hoodie, revealing his lean but shapely chest. He didn't have a ton of definition, not compared to their father, but there was already some evidence of the last few weeks of training Mathias had put him through. His shoulders were bigger, his arms and pecs flexed with smaller movements than they ever had before.

"What do you think?" asked Jaune

"Huh?" replied Ellie.

"Some laundry." He held up the hoodie. "Do you think I will have time to do it?"

Oh, looked like he'd reached a resolution while she was lost in her thoughts. He didn't look particularly panicked anymore, just resigned. Ellie had snatched the item from him before she was even aware her hand was moving. "I'll do it."

"Really? Thanks! That'll help a bunch. Could you turn around? I'd like to wash these jeans too."

Jaune was already done unzipping by the time Ellie finished computing his request. She nearly twisted her ankle with the force of her rotation. She distracted herself from the sound of Jaune getting stuck at the bottom of his jeans and hopping around clumsily by draping his sweatshirt over her shoulder and grabbing his laundry hamper. A moment later a bare arm reached over her shoulder and deposited the jeans in the laundry.

Ellie headed for the door.

"Thanks Ell-Bow."

Ellie froze in his doorway.

Ell-Bow.

That's what Jaune had called her when they were toddlers. At the time, he had been attempting to call her their father's pet-name, Ell-Bell.

But as a child rhyming words had proved a bit of a tongue twister for Jaune.

Ellie required a moment to reload her thoughts. She keept her eyes trained on the bin in her hands. She had known she would be fine with Jaune using the nickname. She hadn't, however, anticipated how much she would enjoy it.

"Sorry!" Jaune exclaimed, "I just…that's a you and dad thing isn't it? We were just…I…mean—"

"I like it," Ellie interrupted him. "Besides, you can call me whatever you want Jaune."

" _Whatever_ I want?", asked Jaune, disbelief evident in his voice.

"Of course, brother-dear, I know you'd never abuse such a power… _would you_?"

Jaune made a bit of a squealing noise. "N-nope."

Ellie shut his door behind her. Her face was warmer than it had any right to be. At least there were two saving graces to this entire situation.

First…

Jaune was completely unaware of the effect he was having on her. And she planned to keep it that way.

Second…

She could still scare the hell out of him. Thank Oum for her mother's genes.

###

"Ozpin!" Glynda Goodwitch stamped out of the elevator and into her eclectic boss's office.

Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon and perpetual source of her ire, sat behind his great desk, nursing a cup of coffee that seemed to never run dry.

He claimed to drink coffee for medicinal reasons. The caffeine, supposedly, helped him manage his intense migraines.

Glynda had believed him at first—after all, Ozpin's…unique abilities sounded like the sort of power that would cause intense headaches.

She had stopped believing him a few years back. The coffee order had been delayed by a few weeks and Beacon had run dry.

Ozpin was miserable—but his distinct refusal to consume other beverages and medicine with caffeine led Glynda to the probable conclusion that Ozpin was recurring headaches were an excuse. The man was just a coffee addict.

That week of misery she had endured? That was brought on by withdrawal symptoms. The only headache within sight was the man himself.

"How are you this evening Glynda?"

Glynda ignored his blatant attempt to draw her into a calming conversation. Ozpin was a masterful strategist—he excelled at drawing his opponent into his pace, his game, from there it was easy for him to win.

He was a good man, fighting an unseen enemy in an invisible war, for the sake of all humanity.

He was also a frivolous bastard who treated the little details like a bullhead treats speed bumps.

In his defense, it was a little absurd for a pilot to look out for speed bumps, especially when they were in the middle of a dog-fight.

Less in the enigma's defense was his inability to differentiate between speed bumps and buildings.

"Ozpin, explain this!" She slammed the sheet on his desk.

Ozpin looked down at the paper with reserved interest. Glynda watched him closely.

It was, however, for naught, his expression gave nothing away.

"Ah, Jaune Arc."

"Yes, _Jaune Arc_. As of yesterday, this boy was not registered as a first year here."

"Really?" replied Ozpin.

Glynda wanted to tell the man to cut the bull. But she refrained. Losing one's temper was the easiest way to hand Ozpin victory in his little games. "Now he is enrolled."

"Well," Ozpin pretended—and Glynda knew that's what he was doing—to adjust his glasses. He looked over Jaune's application with an exaggerated span of attention. "It looks as if Mr. Arc will make a grand addition to our school."

"Of course, he will," said Glynda, eyes narrowed, "he's an Arc. They start working on developing their warrior's body as infants."

Ozpin chuckled. "That's just an old rumor. Rictus says the earliest they start training an Arc is two."

"That's too young Ozpin!" Glynda hissed.

"Are you asking me to rescind Mr. Arc's acceptance because he was trained too intensely? That hardly seems fair…" Ozpin sipped his coffee. His eyes remained trained on Glynda.

"Don't act concerned about fairness only when it suits you Ozpin," began Glynda. "I want to know why you're giving the Arc family special treatment. Unless you have an exceptionally good reason, it's an injustice to the rest of the students—students who had to earn their way here."

"Are you sure your dislike for Rictus isn't…biasing you here Glynda?"

"I don't _dislike_ Rictus Ozpin,"

"Oh?"

"I _despise_ him."

"Your impartiality is an inspiration," said Ozpin dryly.

"Stop trying to distract me," replied Glynda, "I'm not going to argue about that vacuous man. You _can't_ show this kind of favoritism Ozpin. You can't accept a new student two days before initiation—not when we've already rejected so many promising candidates for lack of space."

"What makes you think Mr. Arc was not registered and accepted the same way as every other student? If I remember correctly, Mr. Arc's entry in the database indicated that he was registered four months ago, well within our open enrollment period."

As if the way Ozpin had that information ready to go wasn't enough of a red flag.

"Two days ago, I printed every incoming first-years' application."

"Do I wish to hear why?" said Ozpin.

"To memorize their names and faces."

Ozpin sputtered on his drink. "All of them? But why? Only two or three teams will wind up mattering in the long—no, what I meant to say is, Beacon is lucky to have such a dedicated and—"

"Spare me Ozpin, the point is I memorized all of the incoming students. My previous copies of the applications were…ruined last night. So, I printed more. And _that_ is when I found this. I _know_ Jaune Arc was not previously registered."

Ozpin sipped more coffee. "Yes, Mr. Arc was a rather late addition to the roster this year. But, given his skill it is not unreasonable to—"

"Don't bother Ozpin. That might work on someone else. But I've seen you and that buffoon together, several times. You're not even that similar when you're apart, but you're in the same room…" The woman shuddered uncharacteristically. "It's like you have one brain."

"I suppose I should be flattered, considering Rictus's accomplishments."

"Don't be," said Glynda, "he's a horrible human being."

Ozpin scoffed. "He's unorthodox but—"

Glynda interrupted him again. She knew better than to allow herself to get drawn into his banter. "Again, Ozpin, I did not come here to discuss Rictus. I came to disapprove of this blatant nepotism. You've always favored the Arcs—and given them absurd leeway. Registering outside of the mandatory times is just one example in a long line of acts that—"

Ozpin, once again, switched tracks, cutting off her reasoning. "Nepotism, perhaps, but not in unreasonable amounts. And not based purely on friendship. If you can show me any other family that has as much potential to produce powerful huntsmen and huntresses then I will extend to them the same treatment as I do to the Arcs."

"So, your friendship with Rictus does not play a role? You would allow any sufficiently powerful young huntress or huntsman to join the school at any time?"

"Absolutely," replied Ozipin.

He sounded sincere.

Glynda hated that sincerity. She hated it because she knew why he sounded so sincere.

Ozpin was the one who made cuts to applicants—but only because she forced him to.

If it wasn't for her insistence that he whittle down the numbers, and her regular review of his work, the Headmaster would probably let everyone who applied into the school.

He'd leave the little stuff, like ensuring that there were enough rooms, food, beds, class space, and money to Glynda and her staff.

Then he'd just sip coffee in bemused silence when she explained to him that they were bankrupt.

"Listen Glynda, I understand that you don't like Rictus…"

That was true. It wasn't what this was about. But it was true.

"But the queen is moving, and having an Arc nearby is like having a pocket ace."

"You're mixing metaphors again," said Glynda.

The corner of Ozpin's mouth quirked upwards. "Perhaps I am, but you remember Mathias in his first year—and Mel too."

"How could I not?" asked Glynda, "my classmates kept challenging them to spars."

"And losing," Ozpin added. "They were strong as fourth years, and twice as hardened, practically already full-blown hunters. An Arc student is…a weapon, hidden amongst children, a force unknown to the enemy. Jaune Arc will be an asset. I guarantee it."

Glynda closed her eyes and exhaled. She didn't like this. She didn't like it at all. She hated the favoritism. She hated…Rictus.

God, she hated him so much.

One thing was clear, she hated him more than she hated the favoritism, and that realization alone was enough to convince her that maybe, just maybe, her heart wasn't quite in the right place.

"He does have some impressive feats on his application," she admitted. Glynda pinched the bridge of her nose. She hated feeling as if Ozpin had swayed her. She reached for the paper on Ozpin's desk. "I've never heard of air insertion by Nevermore. And beating a deathstalker to death with one's bare-fists—while not even being a melee fighter…"

Ozpin's face was a mask as he laced his fingers and rested his chin atop them. "Are you beginning to see why I believe he belongs here?"

"Fine. I was going to end this conversation by telling you to rescind the Arc boy's enrollment. However, there may have been… _various_ reasons behind that desire. I will, however, withhold judgement on Jaune Arc, until I have had the chance to meet him. He had better not be as entitled as those two were Ozpin or so help me…"

Ozpin chuckled, "Mathias and Mel weren't _that_ entitled. They had simply learned from their father to be…confident."

"You mean conceited," corrected Glynda.

Ozpin shrugged. "Conceit and confidence often go hand and hand. Besides, they grew out of it."

"I'm not waiting a year-and-a-half for the famous Arc epiphany and apology. I'll break that indulgence the first day of school.

"Crushing the spirit of an Arc? And in a day at that? I wish you the best of luck Glynda."

"I don't need luck Ozpin," said Glynda, spinning on her heel.

What she needed was a stiff drink.

An Arc attending Beacon meant Rictus would start dropping by again. If only that arrogant prick was a criminal…

Then she'd be justified in killing him.

"I will keep an eye out for favoritism Ozpin," said Glynda. With a wave of her crop she wrenched open the elevator doors. She turned to face him after she entered the compartment. "If I detect any, we will have words." Ozpin hid the lower half of his face behind his coffee but Glynda could tell from his eyes he was smiling. "And those words will end with you taking on classes and me managing enrollment."

Ozpin's smile slipped.

Glynda watched those eyes as the doors closed.

They were open wide and full of horror.

Good.

###

Jaune stumbled back.

Ugh.

Why was he struggling so much with this simple task? He had failed twice.

Twice!

Jaune shrugged his instruments a little higher up on his shoulders. Thankfully, he had checked his heaviest luggage, two duffel bags stuffed with clothes and other necessities. His guitar, however, was still slung across his back. And hanging off his right shoulder was a lightweight keyboard. His computer bag rested on his left side.

Here he went again. Third time was the charm, right?

He studied the open door in front of him and then glanced at the man on his right.

The conductor stared at him with a professional countenance, an impregnable mask of patience, understanding, and service. His foot, however, pounded the ground at the pace of a jack-hammer.

Jaune lined himself up again. He bent his knees so the neck of his guitar wouldn't hit the top of the entrance and then he pressed his keyboard close so it wouldn't bang into the side. He managed to board the train. His success was met with cheers from his family. They had been watching his struggle from a few feet away.

Jaune turned towards them once he had a bit more space.

They all were all smiling, big toothy Arc smiles. Cece's eyes were full of tears and her nose was running, but she was still smiling.

Even Aren looked happy for him.

They all did.

And that made Jaune smile. Sure, he was still lost, his life was changing too quickly and it felt as if his reality was spinning out of control.

And that was all his family's fault—mostly his father's and somewhat Ellie's.

But when he saw how happy they were for him… It was too painfully obvious how much they loved him to feel a shred of anger. Plus, he'd had an idea since boarding the train, a realization that put him at ease.

His family probably interpreted his smile as excitement, rather than love, but that was fine with him.

There were two members of the family whose smiles didn't quite reach their eyes. Ellie—in fact she wasn't really smiling at all—and his mother. His mom's smile was belied by the worry in her eyes.

Had she noticed his reluctance? Or was she just worried that her baby boy was leaving the nest?

Ellie's…mixed expression made a lot more sense. She was, after all, the only one who understood the consternating truth concerning the circumstances of his departure.

But what she didn't know was that an thought had hit Jaune during his first two failed attempts to board the train. An idea so radical and so original that Ellie had only tried to pound it through his thick skull a dozen or so times.

All that agonizing over Beacon or VAA…

Wondering whether it was his destiny to be a hunter…

Contemplating what it meant to be a member of his family…

All of that.

And Jaune Arc couldn't properly use a door.

Suddenly he had answers to all those questions:

The answers didn't matter.

He couldn't use a freakin' door. If destiny wanted him to be a huntsman, then destiny should have equipped him a little better.

He was going to V.A.A.

Not because he was selfish. Not because he didn't want to be a hero. Not even because Ellie had told him to do it.

But because he, Jaune Arc, could not properly manage a doorway.

And, because he loved music. That too.

"Bye John!"

Aren…

"Make us proud!"

Crystal…

"Remember us when you get famous!"

Alana…

"Bwie Vaune!"

Cece…

"We love you Jaune."

Mist and Paige simultaneously.

"I'm proud of you son."

Dad…

"Call somebody when you arrive Jaune! And watch out for gold-digging skanks!"

M-mom…?

Ellie didn't speak. She just stared at him.

Jaune gave her a sheepish wave.

The conductor stepped by him. The doors began to close a moment later. But not before he spotted Ellie mouth the word "idiot" one last time.

He watched her from behind the door's glass pane. While the rest of his family waved and cheered she shook her head slowly, mouthing the word "idiot" over and over. Jaune was glad to have the metal door between he and her disapproving glare.

He knew why she was upset. Their last conversation had ended with him expressing why he might _have_ to be a huntsman—regardless of whether he desired to be one.

She hadn't liked that.

She hadn't liked that one bit.

He would have to call her, explain his change of heart.

Actually, he would just have to call her generally. Whereas his mom had requested he call regularly, Ellie had demanded he make contact at least once a day. Would she count a text as "making contact?" Probably not.

Well, that was fine. He enjoyed talking to Ellie and even being lambasted by her. whichever their conversation turned into first was fine by him. They'd gotten so much closer over the past year—it felt like how they were when they were kids—inseparable.

Talking to her would be as close to being home as he could get from several hundred miles away.

He gave his family one last wave and then proceeded deeper into the train. Part of him felt that he should stand at that door and wave until the train started moving and he could no longer see the rest of the Arc family.

But he suppressed that urge.

He had already given his longer, more emotional, goodbyes at home.

Some had been sad. Some of them had made Jaune glad he had kept his reservations to himself. Some of them were…

Weird.

There were some gifts as well. His mother had cooked him his favorites for breakfast.

His father had given him a series of stickers with the Arc family crest to put on his instruments.

The twins interrupted his dad's gift-giving with a box of chocolate strawberries and an offer to feed him mouth to mouth. Jaune was more than a little taken aback by the offer. He had looked to his dad for help, but he had seemed to be lost in wide-eyed thought. Fortunately, Ellie was there to physically remove the twins from his lap—pretty brutally now that he thought about it.

That was one of the weirder goodbyes.

Anyway, his plan, for now, was to enjoy the rest of this trip in silence. He would listen to music, sleep, and enjoy the solitude. He was sure he'd miss his family eventually, soon even. But, for now, he would focus on this wonderful lack of responsibility.

This ride, at least, was going to be a wonderful trip. He looked at his train ticket.

Was this his seat? Wow, it was spacious, at least the width of a small bench. Long enough for him to rest his guitar across his lap without the neck jutting into the aisle. He was sat across from a rotund man with closed eyes. The spread of crinkles on the man's face was a good sign. He looked like the kind of guy who laughed a lot.

Nice.

Normally, when Jaune traveled, stuff went horribly wrong from the beginning. Like being wedged between two giant men who both decided to use him as a pillow, or a single mother with screaming triplets that he felt so bad for he was roped into helping care for the little girls for the entire extent of the ride…

But today was auspiciously different.

Almost suspiciously so.

Jaune narrowed his eyes at the approaching ticket collector. Would he inform him that this was a shared seat? Would his ticket somehow be proven invalid?

None of the above. The ticket collector, a pretty red-head, passed back his ticket with a smile. She cleared her throat towards the middle-aged man across from Jaune. The man's hand shot out, ticket extended. His eyes did not open.

So maybe he wasn't asleep.

Jaune withdrew his earphones and his scroll. Which playlist was best suited for a long train ride? He had downloaded a lot of indie artists he had yet to hear

When she returned his ticket, he spoke. "Thank you, fair lady. And may I say your hair ignites the fire in my heart!"

The ticket collector accepted the compliment with a smile. And walked away with a slightly peppier step.

"Wow," said Jaune. It slipped out. He didn't mean for it too. He was just impressed. He'd never seen his father's advice put into action so fluidly.

This guy had confidence to spare.

"Hm?" The man turned towards him. "Did you say something lad?"

"I was just impressed by how you complimented that woman. If I tried something like that she'd either laugh or look at me like I'm the grossest thing she's ever seen."

The man laughed. He had a boisterous laugh, full of belly. "Would you like to know how I do it young man?"

Jaune held off on slipping in his earphones. He'd have all ride to listen to music. No harm in spending a couple of minutes getting to know his seatmate, right? Besides, what straight seventeen-year-old boy on Remnant wouldn't want to know the secret to talking to beautiful women? His father's advice: confidence, had…not served him well.

His sister's advice wasn't great either.

Aren said something about flowers.

Cece said candy was better than confidence.

Misty and Paige had asked him why he was even considering girls abroad when there was a treasure trove of beauties at home—a question he stoutly refused to answer.

Crystal's was, perhaps, the most accurate. "You don't need a bullshit personality, just strum a few chords, sing, and make sure your hair looks like you just got out of bed, you'll be in their pants in a heartbeat. Hell, they'll make it their personal mission to teach your virgin ass a thing or two."

Ellie had told him she would castrate him if he followed Crystal's advice…

Yeah. He could _definitely_ take a few minutes to listen to this older and, obviously, successful player. What was the harm? At the worst, he'd only lose a couple minutes.

"I'd loved to," Jaune replied.

The man grinned. His smile stretched from cheek to cheek, raising his blue moustache a few inches higher.

"Then sit back my boy! Allow me to regale you with the tales of Peter Port, lover, warrior, and paragon of humility! This will be a five part…"

Port grew more and more animated as he spoke.

Jaune reeled back at the sudden display of energy.

Did he just say _paragon of humility_?

###

Jaune's head throbbed.

There was a vein, somewhere in his forehead region. He could feel it pulsing. It was going to burst. He was sure of it.

Why?

Why had the train stopped? Some disturbance on the tracks, sure.

But _why_?

And that wasn't even the most important question.

How?

How could this man still be talking?

Jaune accepted his duffel bags from the station staff member as Port launched into _another_ story about him and Rictus.

After an hour and a half long lecture on picking up women Jaune thought he had finally escaped. Peter was finishing his fifth story of conquest, from which Jaune had learned nothing more than—Peter Port scores with the ladies. Jaune was ready to slam his earphones into place the moment there was a lull in the conversation, giving him the perfect excuse to close his eyes, disengage, and get some shuteye.

Then Peter, without stopping for a breath, asked for his name.

If Jaune had realized what giving it to him would mean he would have made up a pseudonym.

Four hours.

 _Four hours._

That was how long Port had talked about adventures he had shared with Jaune's grandfather.

Jaune glanced at his scroll. Oum, he was working on a fifth. Actually, a seventh if Jaune included the lectures on women at the beginning. Port walked beside him, a never-ending whirlwind of speech.

He'd babysat a stranger's infants…

He'd been crushed—by human girth, not the train but…still…

Once he'd even been tasered…

Despite all of that, how was this still the worst train ride of his life?

It was incomprehensible.

The man beside him was incomprehensible.

Peter Port had, somehow, managed to conversationally accost Jaune for seven hours on a goddamn two-hour train ride.

Port continued talking even as they exited the station.

Jaune nodded along to the man's story. He'd become quite adept at treating the man's voice as background noise—it was a skill he had adapted to survive that train ride.

He took in what he could see of Vale.

It had been a while.

He'd come here a few times throughout his life. The last time was with his father, for his fifteenth birthday.

Jaune wasn't a huge fan. Sure, the variety was nice. There were tons of stores, cafes, and specialty shops. If one store didn't have what he needed he could just go to the next—rather than wait days or weeks for his order to arrive.

So that was nice.

But he liked Fern's crisp clean air.

He remembered thinking when he was fifteen that there were too many scents in the air around here. Garbage, food, engine fumes…

Jaune inhaled deeply.

Yep.

Still didn't like it.

Then there was the light. There was too much of it. The sun had set, the moon was out. Why did it still feel like daytime?

He liked playing his guitar under the stars. Now he couldn't even see the stars.

He'd have to get used to this.

"—ther?"

Jaune caught the change in Peter's tone. It sounded as if the man had asked him a question. Probably something along the lines of "isn't that impressive?" or "Are you beginning to understand the man who is Peter Port?" or "Surely you understand why her breath would be stolen by my visage?"

Jaune nodded.

"Capital! Where then?"

Jaune turned to his new…acquaintance. He had to look down a little to meet his eyes. Despite his tall tales, Peter Port was a short man.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I suggested we share cab fare if we are heading in the same direction and you acquiesced. So where are you heading?"

Oh god.

Please no.

Jaune wished he knew where Port was going. He also wished he knew a lick about the city. If he had those two little bits of knowledge he would have named whatever was in the opposite direction of Port.

As it was, he opted for the truth and hoped to Oum he would be riding solo. "I'm heading to the Shining Halo hotel?"

"Ah, that's not in my direction. I need to catch the last Bullhead to Beacon."

"Oh?" Jaune struggled to mask his exhilaration. "That's too bad."

"Alas, it seems we will part ways here Jaune Arc. But I will see you come Monday? Yes?"

A frigid chill crept down Jaune's spine. Had he agreed to a meet up with all that nodding? "Monday?" he asked, fighting off encroaching feelings of dread.

"Initiation?" said Port. "Are you not here to enroll in Beacon Academy?"

Jaune relaxed. Oh. He was an Arc, so Port had just assumed. "No, I'm not going to Beacon. I was accepted there. But I was also accepted into the Vale Academy of the Arts, so I'm going there instead."

Port didn't make any effort to disguise his visual disappointment. Nor his verbal. "What!? My boy, you're rejecting the noble profession of huntsman?"

"I'm not rejecting it…"

Port shook his head. "For shame Jaune. For shame. An Arc, like a Port, belongs squarely between Grimm and civilization. For shame Jaune." Port made to turn but stopped so that he could fix Jaune with one more disapproving look. "For shame."

Jaune watched the short huntsman walk away. Was it an Arc's place to stand squarely between Grimm and civilization?

Perhaps.

But Jaune couldn't properly manage a doorway.

The logic was surprisingly effective. He let Port's words roll right off him, guilt free.

He approached one of the many cabs waiting in front of the station. His father had given him one-hundred-fity lien in living expenses. Seven twenties and a ten.

That was enough for a cab, right?

"Shining Halo?" he asked through the open window.

"Hop in kid."

###

Glynda entered her bedroom, exhausted. It had been…

A long day.

Confronting Ozpin over the Arc boy had only been a small part of it.

After that she supervised the preparation of the initiation area. Year after year, it was her most detested task.

She oversaw the huntsmen staff, to make sure they set everything up to Ozpins specifications.

Then she ensured that all the cameras were operational.

Then she weeded out any Grimm that posed too large a risk to their students—but also avoid killing the smaller ones so that it was still a "Grimm-infested" forest.

Then she oversaw the civilian technicians that maintained the launch pads.

And then she, and several other teachers, personally tested them.

When had she turned so jaded that soaring through the sky became an absolute bother?

The real question was why did she feel so responsible for this school? Why couldn't she arbitrarily decide to take an impromptu vacation, like Peter.

He hated setting up the school.

So, he avoided it.

Every…goddamn…year.

Glynda undid her cuffs as she approached her desk.

All she needed was a drink. Or maybe a couple. She wasn't an alcoholic. Not at all, she had seen an alcoholic before. He was never sobered. How he managed to wield that ridiculous weapon while drunk out of his mind was beyond her.

No, she was nothing like Qrow.

He probably drank while he taught.

Glynda hardy even touched liquor over the school year.

Over the summer she just drank a little more often.

Like every night.

And considering this was the second to last night of her summer…

She planned to drink. A bit.

A bit more than usual.

She opened her special drawer.

It wasn't there.

Glynda opened another drawer. No scotch in there either. Where had she…?

Oh, right. Glynda recalled what happened to those student applications.

Last night. She'd made her way through about a third of the bottle before she spilled the rest on the face of one Cardin Winchester. Her expensive mistake had ruined the rest of the pages too.

Goddamn it.

Suddenly Glynda was even angrier at Peter. There wasn't much reason for it. But it didn't matter. The man should have shared in her awful day. He hadn't. Now she didn't have anything to drink.

She could have rooted around the school, starting with the closet where they stored alcohol confiscated from the students, that sort of thing. But the chances of there being a fine scotch among them…

Was she willing to settle for any swill that would get her drunk?

It's what Qrow would do.

Glynda shuddered. That was more than enough to dissuade her from _that_ course of action.

But what else could she do?

Go to bed sober?

Two days before school started?

Two days before she spent every night, for nine months, painfully sober, baby-sitting a legion of aura-enhanced teenagers?

She loved her students dearly. But being sober just before their arrival was a little too much.

She glanced at her gold watch. The last bullhead was a half hour ago. She could, of course, still request one. But to buy alcohol? That would be an abuse of power on par with Ozpin's coffee habit.

Could she stomach that parallel?

###

Jaune sprawled on his back.

His room was comfortable.

His bed was soft.

This was nice.

Really nice.

He'd have to thank his dad for this again. The first time he'd expressed his gratitude he'd been a bit insincere due to the rising sense of heart-stopping panic he was experiencing.

Now that his thoughts were under control he was capable of a bit more appreciation.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him how long it had been since he'd eaten.

He knew hotels had room service. But he wasn't quite sure how it worked.

Besides, his father had paid for all of this so he could get accustomed to Vale. He couldn't do that from the comfort of his room.

He unzipped one of his duffel bags. He pawed through his clothes, looking for his favorite hoodie. His fingers found several other hoodies, along with his drum pad and portable sound board, but he couldn't locate his favorite. He settled for his gray hoodie. The graphic on the shirt was of a cow asking, " _do you like moooo-sic?_ "

His sister's thought the graphic was hilarious so Jaune knew it was great.

He made sure he had his keycard in his wallet and his wallet in his pocket. Then he left his room.

In the elevator, he remembered his mom's request.

She had told him to call _someone_ when he arrived… And Ellie had demanded that he call her every day…

So, he figured he should call Ellie. He plugged in his headphones and pressed the call button.

She picked up immediately.

 _"Jaune?"_

Ellie's familiar face filled his screen.

"Hey Ell-Bow."

 _"What took you so long?"_ , the girl huffed. _"You were supposed to call as soon as you got to Vale."_

"The train was late four or five hours."

 _"What!?"_ , she exclaimed.

Jaune narrowly avoided a bellhop as he made his way to the hotel exit.

"Something wrong with the tracks. Better than a derail, right?"

Ellie was not a fan of his morbid joke. _"Jaune!"_

The camera shifted so she could glare at him better. The movement also gave Jaune a better view of her background.

"Hey, are you in my room?"

Ellie's eyes widened. She readjusted the camera so he could only see her face. _"Um, Yes."_

"Oh," said Jaune.

 _"I-is that a problem?"_ asked Ellie.

"Nope," said Jaune. "I was just wondering."

 _"W-well,"_ began Ellie, _"I've never had my own room before, and I just thought since you were gone… maybe it would be alright if…"_

Jaune cut her off. "What's mine is yours Ellie." He grinned. "Keep _our_ stuff safe from those Beowolves we call sisters okay?" Jaune's screen went black. "Hello, Ellie?"

 _"I'm here. I just accidentally covered the camera with my thumb."_

"Oh," said Jaune, glancing up at a business man who had just brushed by him. The guy was moving quickly. "I was afraid we got disconnected." He refocused on his phone. His screen was still dark. "Ellie? Are you going to move your thumb?"

Suddenly Jaune was looking at his ceiling fan. "Ellie?"

 _"Jaune, what did you eat for dinner?"_

Weird.

For a moment, Jaune thought Ellie had set the scroll down to go do something, but she still sounded as if she was right next to the microphone.

"That's what I'm going to get right now. I figured, first night of freedom, I'll get something mom would never let me eat. Like…" Jaune licked his lips. "Ramen."

Ellie suddenly loomed in front of the fan. _"Jaune! You can't eat that junk! You need to eat balanced meals. Go get a salad!"_

Jaune chuckled. "Figured that would bring you back on camera…" He drifted off. "Are you wearing my Pumpkin Pete hoodie?"

Ellie froze. She glanced down at her voluminous top, and then back at the camera. _"What? You're breaking up Jaune!"_

The call ended.

Huh.

That was…interesting.

Also explained why he hadn't been able to find his favorite hoodie. He didn't know why Ell-Bow had felt the need to end the call though. He'd just finished telling her what was his was hers.

Why wouldn't that apply to his hoodie?

Did she think he would call her a thief?

He might have. But only as a joke.

Well, since he already had his headphones in… he hit the shuffle button on his "all-music" list and then slid his scroll into his pocket.

Now, what would he eat?

He'd been joking about the instant noodles, to draw out a predictably horrified response from his sister. She took all her health cues from their mother. And their mother believed if it was prepackaged it was carcinogenic—even in small mouthfuls. She allowed certain products—like Pumpkin Pete's. But that was only because cereal really was the only breakfast option some busy mornings.

And she never bought the Frosted Pumpkin Pete's. Only the original, which was…well it was good…but it was no Frosted!

Maybe he really should get a cup of ramen?

He'd eaten instant noodles occasionally, at school, when his friends deemed him worthy of a sample. He'd liked it then.

And he knew they were cheap...

He halted in front of a convenience store. Maybe destiny really was on his side, after all, he'd been thinking about instant noodles and now he was here. A place that should sell them.

The businessman who had brushed by him earlier was at the door. As Jaune reached for the door the businessman reached for him, probably to apologize for earlier. Jaune didn't feel like taking out his headphones so he waved the man down. "It's fine. Accidents happen."

The man lowered his glasses, looking confused.

Wow. Did city folk expect people to be furious over stuff like a bumped shoulder? Vale must be a vicious place. Jaune stepped around the frozen man, pulling open the door. "Have a good one," he called over his shoulder.

The tempo and pacing of his music picked up as he browsed the store. It was a pretty weird place. There was a bunch of dust stuff up front, some foods, some empty jars, a magazine section.

Was every store in the city trying to cover all their bases?

He soon found what he was looking for.

Whoa.

They had instant-noodle bowls! Those probably had twice as many noodles as the cup!

Jaune grabbed one. Was that all he needed? Well, since he was here, might as well get some snacks for later. Just a few items his mother had never let him eat. Cookies… chips… candy… jerky… chocolate... soda… Just a few things.

Hadn't Pumpkin Pete's created a frosted cereal bar?

Jaune salivated as he rounded the corner, eyes locked on the snack session. He didn't see the small girl before him until he had already run into her.

She might have fallen, had Jaune not had years of experience clumsily knocking over and immediately catching falling sisters. He grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him. He caught a glimpse of her eyes as she reversed directions. They were wide as saucers, and more silver than his mom's good tableware, even after a thorough polish.

The magazine she was browsing dropped to the floor, but the rest of her did not go with it.

Her forehead came to a stop on his chest, about at his sternum. He expected her to step back or push away after he had drawn her close.

But, instead, she stood frozen.

Jaune ripped his earphones out of his ears. "Hey are you alright?"

She didn't reply. Ah, she was wearing headphones herself, which meant he need to catch her eye. He leaned down, waving.

"Whoa!" The girl jumped back suddenly, hands raised in, what looked like, a karate fighting pose. She blinked at him owlishly. Wow. Those eyes were…something else. The girl cautiously pushed her headphones down. "Yang told me I had to watch out for molesters in Vale but I didn't expect to run into one so soon!"

"I'm not a molester!"

"Really?" asked the girl.

"I ran into you by accident. I was just trying to keep you from falling."

"Oh!" said the girl happily. "Thank goodness! I wasn't sure _what_ I was going to do if I ran into a molester. I can't use my baby on civilians, even if they're perverts. I guess I could just run, but then the criminal would still be on the streets…maybe if I used my semblance to find a piece of wood or something I could…"

The girl's speech grew faster and faster, until Jaune couldn't follow a word she was saying. Jaune's mind immediately leapt to Cece. Accelerated speech brought on by excitement was one of her quirks too. Then he imagined Cece taking on a molester rather than running away.

If he'd understood the gist of this new girl, then that was what she was saying also. It left an unsettling feeling in Jaune's stomach.

"Hey."

The girl quieted immediately. "Sorry, was I rambling? I…I do that sometimes."

"That's fine. It's cute."

"Cute!?" sputtered the girl.

"But, trying to fight a molester isn't fine," Jaune continued. "Just go find the police if someone tries to molest you. You shouldn't be a hero. Especially if they're bigger than you."

"Bigger than me? What does that have to…" the girl trailed off. "Oh! You think I'm a civvie! Don't worry, I'm a huntress."

"Really?" asked Jaune, eyes wide.

He gave the girl a more through look over. She was wearing a skirt, which didn't scream huntress to him. But Alana and Crystal were always making fun of girls at school who wore "combat skirts." Maybe that's what this was. She was small, very small. And her age…thirteen? No, probably fourteen. Her hair was short, that was pretty huntress like—maybe. It made sense to him at least, who wanted hair getting in the way during a life and death battle against Grimm?

In the end, the only thing he could say for certain, was that he didn't know.

To believe or not to believe?

On the one hand, he had sisters who could kick his ass.

On the other hand, the girl had Ellie's build. Well, not quite as slight but still. The _only_ reason Ellie would beat him in a fight was if she commanded him to stand still and take it.

Wait.

Something about that seemed a tad unhealthy.

Jaune didn't notice how intensely he'd been staring at the girl until she started to back away. "I knew it…"

"Whoa!" Jaune held up his hands, palms open. "Still not a molester. I was just thinking you don't look a lot like a huntress."

"Hm..." the girl stared at him critically. No doubt trying to decide if he'd been observing or violating her within the privacy of his thoughts.

She must have been satisfied with what she saw because she smiled.

It was the blinding kind of smile—a lot like Cece's.

"Well one day I'll be the girl you think of when you think huntress. You'll remember the name Ruby Rose!"

"Ruby Rose," Jaune tasted the name. He liked it. It certainly had the flow of a famous huntress name. He extended a hand towards here. "I'm Jaune Arc. Maybe you'll hear about me in the future too."

Ruby stared at his hand for a moment.

Jaune laughed awkwardly. "I'm still not trying to molest you."

"I know," said Ruby. "But why are you trying to shake hands.? We didn't make a deal."

That…

That was a very good point. Why was he trying to shake hands with a teenage girl? Did kid his age even shake hands?

"Y-you're right. My bad." He dropped his hand. "I can be a little…awkward sometimes."

Suddenly Ruby was close. She had his hand in hers.

The scent of roses washed over Jaune.

Where did that come from? Where had _she_ come from?

The innocence in her eyes that reminded him so much of Cece was gone, replaced by a weirdly predatorial glint.

"How awkward?"

"V-very?" said Jaune.

"We should exchange scroll numbers then! We can be friends…"

What?

"We can be like a club…"

What?

"A club for the socially retarded."

 _What?_

Jaune took a step away.

Ruby must have seen the…concerned look on his face because she released him and backpedaled immediately. Her pale cheeks were colored and her eyes had returned to their usual youthfulness. "Sorry!" she waved her arms frantically. "I-I'm pretty awkward too. That's why…" she studied her boots as if they were the most interesting shoes in the world. "When I thought, 'hey he's like me' I just…got excited…"

Jaune looked from the hand she had grasped to the girl in question. She was just a girl looking for friends. So, of course, he would give her his scroll number, right? It'd be cruel to refuse. What if one of his own sisters had been in the same situation? Wouldn't he want them to get the-random-man-who-they-thought-was-trying-to-molest-them's number too?

…

No.

No, he wouldn't want that.

But in this particular equation the potential molester was him, so it should be fine.

And only by befriending this girl could he teach her to never _ever_ befriend anyone else in this manner _ever_ again.

Another reason to say yes.

"Ruby—," he began.

He was interrupted by a sudden shout.

"Hey!"

He turned, spotting a man dressed identically to the businessman who had bumped into him outside. In fact, it was the businessman who had bumped him outside—only this time he had a giant curved knife. Or was that a sword? Either way, Jaune was not a fan.

"Keep your hands where I can see them," said the man, approaching with blade outstretched.

Jaune's hands shot straight into the air, probably higher than was strictly necessary, but one could never be too careful about these sorts of things could there? "I think we're about to get robbed," he whispered.

Ruby blatantly disobeyed the man's orders, reaching behind her back.

"Are you robbing us?"

"Well… not really. But I guess I am now."

Jaune was already reaching for his money.

Ruby wasn't.

The girl disappeared in a shower of rose petals.

The businessman turned thief flew

Jaune wasn't sure what was happening. All he knew was that one moment, there was a man threatening him with a knife, and the next he had been launched across the shop.

He glanced to his left. Another was coming down the aisle, dressed like the last, and with a gun! Jaune backpedaled. Another shower of rose petals, and the second man was launched through the window. This time Jaune was pretty sure he saw Ruby follow him.

Welp.

Guess that confirmed the huntress thing.

Jaune took several steps back. Were there more thieves? Should he run? Should he call the police? What if Ruby needed help? Could he even help her? If so, how?

Jaune pressed himself into a nearby wall when he heard several sets of footsteps approaching. The man ruby had initially drop kicked across the room was back up, missing his hat though. Two more dressed just like him flanked him on either side.

The fourth was…different. A bowler hat, white petty coat, some sort of ascot around his neck, a live cigar…

Jaune would bet his guitar that he was the boss.

Jaune swallowed and edged along the wall. If he wasn't spotted, maybe he could just make a break down one of these aisles, get to the door and figure out what to do from there.

"Get her," said Bowler Hat.

The three grunts charged towards her. Jaune peered out the window towards Ruby with mute panic, until he saw her stab a massive scythe into the pavement. Then he realized he'd better worry a bit more about himself. He steeled himself to dash.

"Who are you?" said the Bowler Hat, without looking back.

Jaune could _feel_ his hopes being dashed on the rocks by the ocean of being a freakin' Arc.

"A harmless civilian who just wants to run away?" asked Jaune.

"Oooh. Interesting," the man whirled. "Harmless civilians who just want to run away make the best hostages."

"Student huntsman who doesn't want anything to do with this and just wants to run away?"

"Oof. Wrong choice." He leveled his cane at Jaune, "out of the frying pan…"

There was no way that cane was a gun was there? Jaune knew that everything was a gun these days. But a cane?

Come on.

A sight popped up on the end of the stick.

Mother-ducker.

"…and into the fire!"

Jaune threw himself to the left.

The wall behind where he previously stood exploded. Drywall flew in every direction. Jaune's heart was a drum in his skull. Adrenaline pumped through him like blood. Was he going to die here? Was he going to die?

He glanced behind him. The man wasn't there.

"Peek-a-boo."

Jaune don't know what instinct drove him to the floor. But thank Oum it did. More drywall exploded to his right.

Bowler Hat had move alongside him, but on the aisle adjacent to his. He'd fired through the gaps in the shelving.

Blood roared in Jaune's ears. He was panting but did not feel winded. The whole world was slowing to a crawl.

There was no way he could keep this up. He wasn't fast enough. And he didn't have the instincts necessary to keep narrowly dodging shots.

He would die if he ran straight for that door.

Jaune didn't particularly like the thought of dying. So, he did the only thing he could think of that Roman might, possibly, not expect.

He scrambled to his feet. And he threw himself at the shelf that stood between them.

Jaune didn't have much going for him as a fighter, except for one-hundred-ninety pounds of mass. His opponent, the shelf, gave way easy enough.

Jaune didn't stop there, he didn't want his assailant to dodge easily. He threw himself into the shelf on the left of the one he had just toppled, and then the one on the right.

Bowler Hat swore like a sailor on the other side.

Good. It was doing…something.

Then Bowler Hat fired a shot.

When Jaune heard the sound, he wondered if it was some mistake.

How had this man, despite several hundred pounds of…stuff collapsing atop him, managed to take a shot?

How had he managed to aim that unwieldy cane as a shelf tore towards him?

Jaune touched his stomach, half expecting it to be missing. Turned out he was still alive and intact. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Then where had the man fired? Was it an accident?

Jaune looked to his left. Nothing there. He looked to his right.

Yes.

Yes, it was an accidental shot.

It had to be.

Only a suicidal maniac would start a dust fire in a dust store.

"Fire," screamed Jaune, to whomever was listening. Suddenly Bowler Hat and his gun-cane weren't the biggest worries on Jaune's list. He took off, arms pumping.

There was an elderly man on his way, probably the store owner. Jaune scooped him up as if he were Cece. Jaune glanced over his shoulder as he reached the door. Would Bowler Hat…?

The shelves exploded upwards as Bowler Hat made his way to his closest exit, the window.

Of course.

Why the hell was he worried about that monster?

Jaune burst through the door. But didn't stop running. "Ruby!" he screamed "The shop is going to…"

Jaune was cut off by the shop doing exactly what he had thought it would.

Exploding.

Jaune had seen Ruby. And he was vaguely aware of Roman staggering to his feet off to his right. But the world was just ringing sensations. The force of the blast had sent him soaring a good ten or fifteen feet.

He had landed in a manicured bush. The branches had scratched up his limbs and torn through his hoodie but, overall, it was a lucky landing.

Concrete would have felt much worse.

In his arms was the store owner.

Still?

How had he managed to keep hold of him? Through darkness encroached vision he watched Ruby glance between him and the fleeing criminal several times. In the end, she chose to rush to his side.

"Jaune! Are you alright?" Her voice sounded distant, as if she were underwater.

He hoped this wasn't the beginning of partial deafness.

Jaune was worried enough about his future as a musician with functioning ears.

Although it was better than no sound at all right?

She helped him set down the store owner lightly.

And then she helped him out of the bush.

"I think I'm fine Ruby. Somehow…?" He glanced at his own limbs, shocked. Scratches, sure. A couple of cuts, sure. But considering the insanity he had just experienced...

He had come out of that in near perfect health.

"Good thing you have aura, otherwise you and this guy," Ruby motioned to the store owner, "would have been in trouble."

Aura?

He had that?

News to him.

He was distracted by a sudden clamor above them.

Jaune and Ruby watched an epic aerial battle take place between a bullhead and…nature itself?

Ice, clouds, fire...

What the hell was happening up there?

After a minute or so the bullhead left—presumably to escape the wrath of god.

A minute or two later a woman descended.

Yes.

 _Descended._

From a nearby building she drifted downwards with a casual disregard for gravity.

Jaune thought the image would have been completed by an umbrella. He had no idea why. Instead, she had a stick...thing—crop maybe?—which she kept pointed beneath her.

Ruby and Jaune watched the woman as she surveyed the burning dust shop, glanced at the unconscious men who had been thrown like ragdolls away from the explosion and then turned her attention to the two kids.

Blond hair and green eyes.

She could have been an Arc.

So why didn't she feel as friendly as one?

The woman stepped by Jaune and Ruby at first, to inspect the store owner. The man was already waking up and seemed relatively unharmed.

She turned her smoldering glare on Jaune and Ruby. She looked a little harder at Jaune than Ruby.

Which wasn't fair since Jaune had done half as much.

Suddenly she pointed that fairy magic crop at him. Jaune was terrified he might turn into a bug to be crushed beneath her boots.

Instead, a small glyph danced at the end of weapon. Suddenly, his ears felt better. Much better. Had she done that? Of course, she had. But… _how_?

"Do either of you know who I am?"

Jaune and Ruby exchanged a glance and then shook their heads.

"My name is Glynda Goodwitch. I preside over adm—"

Somehow, Ruby wasn't too terrified to interrupt Glynda. "Was that you up there!? Doing all that magic stuff? With the ice and the fire and the clouds!? Are you a huntress!? Can I have your autograph!?"

Jaune glanced from Ruby's excited face, smile wide, to Glynda's…less than pleased expression.

"Can you have my autograph?"

With a flick of her crop Jaune and Ruby both surged into the air. They both screamed. Jaune a little louder.

"Can _you_ have my... autograph?"

Jaune shot Ruby an accusatory glance. They were about to die because she couldn't read the mood.

There were sirens in the distance.

Glynda didn't bother waiting for the police to arrive. She walked purposefully down the street. Jaune and Ruby floated behind her.

"W-where are you taking us?"

"Beacon, Mr. Arc., The Headmaster will have words for you both. Especially _you_."

She knew his name.

She knew his freakin' name.

"W-who'd you say you were again?"

"Glynda Goodwitch, I preside over administrative tasks—such as, organization, finances, managing the student body, combat lessons…"

Why did each of those tasks sound consecutively less administrative?

"…at Beacon academy. And, if I'm not mistaken—and I rarely am—you, are my student."

Ruby squealed. "You're a student at Beacon Jaune?"

Jaune just floated along in open mouthed wonder. Once again, he had come to that age old absolute, undeniable conclusion.

Destiny was a…

"Bitch."

Ruby whimpered. She looked as if she had been slapped. "I'm sorry Jaune, I didn't mean to get us in trouble!"

Huh?

Oh!

"No Ruby!" Jaune exclaimed. "I wasn't talking about you!"

"But aren't you angry at me? Since I started that fight…"

"No way!" said Jaune, "and even if I was I wouldn't call you…that"

"Oh."

"Were you referring to me then Mr. Arc?" The woman didn't so much speak as growl.

Jaune's felt as if his eyes might pop out of his skull. "No way Miss Goodwitch! I was talking about Ruby!" He turned to Ruby and mouthed the words "not really." Ruby nodded in understanding, obviously just as terrified as he was.

"Do you think I cannot see that Mr. Arc and…Ruby…Ruby Rose?"

Ruby gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "You know my name too?"

Jaune stared at the back of Ms. Goodwitch's head. Her golden bob had steadily pointed towards them since she began the kidnapping process. She hadn't turned, not even once.

Jaune cautiously held up his pointer and index fingers. "H-how many fingers am I holding up?"

Glynda did not turn. Not even a bit. For a moment, it seemed she would not bother to reply. Then she spoke, " _Wisely_ , two."

Ruby squeaked.

Jaune screamed silently.

Screw his life.

If this god in human-female-form said he was going to Beacon...

Then he was going to Beacon.

 **So, I said in the last chapter you shouldn't expect the chapters to be that long. And then I wrote a second chapter that is longer. Sigh. Really, they're supposed to be shorter…ugh.**

 **If you're also reading my fic Shield of Vale (slightly different tone than this one, lol) you may notice most of my OC sisters are the same minus one. For narrative reasons, I had to subtract Sage—originally Jaune's third older sister. I replaced her with Paige, Mist's twin. And then I made Cece much younger in this fic.**

 **No need to be confused. Just slightly different continuities.**

 **Also, if you're following my other other fic, Professor Port. I may not be releasing a new chapter for that this Saturday, rather I may release a new fic. I'm going to have to restructure my release schedule—and I think I'd rather do it once I've got a chapter out for all the fics I've planned.**

 **No beta, sorry for any edit-centric issues.**

 **-Vronsurd**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey all, so, wasn't sure I was going to finish this in time since I didn't start it till Tuesday night** ** _Tuesday._** **I started around seven, and since I didn't get a lot of sleep the night before I fell asleep, woke up at 2AM today with one page done. Then I wrote 12 more. Then I went to work. Then I came home. Then I pounded a monster—or 3. Then I wrote 12 more. Urk I'm so tired. Not a lot I can say about it.**

 **Cause I want to go to sleep.**

 **No Beta, and, also, I could hardly even keep my eyes open so…**

 **There may be more issues than usual.**

 **If so, I'm very apologetic.**

 **The story's there though—that's why I outline these things in advance. So super exhausted Vronsurd doesn't screw everything up.**

 **In case you're wondering about updates. I changed it on my profile. I'm updating Shield of Vale and Guitar Huntsman on rotating Wednesdays from here on out—that way I have the Weekend to work on.**

 **(Except for weekends like last one where I was forced to attend a funeral for a 2ND COUSIN TWICE REMOVED THAT IVE NEVER MET—ever. And I thought it would be tragic too because—cousin's they're normally part of your generation, right? So, I thought she'd be my age and we were all there to mourn some sort of tragic loss even if we didn't know her. SHE WAS 89. EVERYONE WAS TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH SHE MEANT TO THEM AND I WAS JUST LIKE…WHY AM I HERE AND WHY AM I NOT CLOSE ENOUGH TO THE BACK TO SLIP OUT.)**

 **…**

 **I'm so tired.**

 **P.S.: You should thank my dog you're seeing this on Wednesday. I finished it. Then fell asleep without posting. But my dog started gnawing on my ear.**

 **Three cheers for posting according to my new schedule**

Guitar Huntsman Chapter 3

At the beginning of the journey Jaune felt very firmly fixed in space, as if he was being hoisted with a rope. He'd even occasionally get jostled, as if the invisible giant holding him had sneezed.

That wasn't so bad.

But, eventually, Glynda's grip on him had…loosened?

No, that wasn't the right word.

But what was?

Well…whatever.

Soon after they started making their way through Vale—Jaune began to feel weightless. He was still occasionally jostled, but rather than shake him like a puppet, those small movements caused him to rotate, as if gravity had ceased to exist.

Ruby had given in to the nauseating rotations with a giggle. She said her semblance helped her deal with motion and her balance.

If only Jaune could get a slice of _that_ pie!

He was determined not to vomit though. What if it floated too? What if he threw up…

Into his own face?

The thought was enough to make him throw up.

He didn't though.

Then they boarded the metal beast known as a bullhead.

And Jaune knew true misery.

Levitating a little way off the ground was nothing compared to hurtling through the sky in a rattling death machine. Every drop, tilt, and rebuff sent his stomach into his throat.

He hadn't eaten in ages.

But he was still going to throw up. He could feel it. His stomach would find a way.

He was an Arc after all.

What was it Grandpa always said? Where there's an Arc there's a way?

Just as Jaune was beginning to give in to his heaving stomach Glynda spoke.

"Mr. Arc, I don't care how drunk or sick you are, if you so much as _think_ of soiling this aircraft I will _not_ be merciful."

Jaune froze. Somehow, his vomit did the same, probably because it too was terrified of the glaring woman before him.

"So, what's gonna happen when we get there?" said Ruby. The girl's cheer had dampened since asking Miss Goodwitch for her autograph—but not by much. She was still bouncing in her seat as they approached the academy. "Are we gonna get locked in the dungeons? Are we gonna get interrogated? Are we gonna get sent to an underground reform prison school where we have to fight for our survival against—"

"Miss Rose," interrupted Glynda. "When we arrive at the school, I will present the two of you to the headmaster. Together, he and I will compile a report of this incident based off your testimonies. He will decide what punishment is required for your recklessness. _I_ , more likely than not, will be the one to preside over and enforce this punishment."

Huh. So, if Jaune understood her correctly, it didn't matter what the headmaster said. Glynda would "preside over" and "enforce" their punishment, which meant she could make their penance as light or as heavy as she desired.

So how did that work?

Sure, right now, Glynda thought he was going to be a student at Beacon in a day. She was probably under the impression that she could punish him as she would any other student. But once he revealed that he had no intention of joining Beacon…

Wouldn't that tie her hands?

Jaune would have spoken up that very moment if it were not for one further consideration.

Ruby.

Ruby wasn't a student at Beacon, not now and not in a few days either.

But she'd still been snatched off the streets with him. And Glynda had included the girl in her explanation of punishment.

Jaune had a sinking feeling that this school was up for punishing anyone and everyone, student or not.

Which meant, Jaune needed to kiss up to Miss Goodwitch _right_ now.

"Miss Goodwitch," said Jaune cautiously, aware that his stomach was _not_ on the same page as his brain as to why he was opening his mouth. "I like your boo—"

The barf came up unbidden. Jaune hit his knees as his stomach turned against him. Strangely he didn't hear his stomach's contents hit the floor. He opened his eyes. A perfect sphere of foul yellow liquid floated before his nose. He glanced past the ball at Miss Goodwitch. Her face was twisted in a grimace of displeasure.

"I told you Mister Arc, if you so much as _think_ of soiling this aircraft I would not be merciful."

"S-sorry?"

"Drink it."

Jaune froze, "I…" he looked from Miss Goodwitch's serious expression, to the disgusting ball before him. "A-are you serious?" asked Jaune.

Glynda Goodwitch didn't respond for, what had to be, ten seconds going on a million years. She didn't smirk, flinch, or avert her gaze.

"Return to your seat Mister Arc. And buckle up. You too Miss Rose."

A moment later she opened the bullhead door and, with a flick of her wrist, launched the contents of Jaune's stomach into the forest below.

She then returned to her seat, crossed her legs, and continued to study Jaune with something bordering on hatred.

Jaune steadily refused to look up. He was beginning to feel nauseous again. But he wasn't sure if it was the woman in front of him or the airship. Probably a mix.

What the hell had just happened?

Had it been a joke?

She hadn't smiled.

At any point.

Not even a little.

Did she just have a terrible sense of humor—and no ability to translate actions into comedy?

Or…what seemed infinitely more likely to Jaune—had she intended to force Jaune to drink…that?

And only changed her mind at the very last moment?

Was it the "bitch" thing?

Or was that just her teaching style—and she decided to save a little for when he was actually her student?

God, he had regrets.

So many regrets.

###

"A-are those cookies?" asked Ruby, practically salivating.

"Why yes, Miss Rose. They are. Would you like one?"

Ruby's hand shot across the table.

Jaune grabbed her wrist. "Don't take their cookies Ruby!" He looked to their captors. "You don't know what they'll want in return."

Ruby looked up at Jaune with a practiced watery and confused expression. "B-but…c-cookies…?"

"It's alright Miss Rose, please, have a cookie."

Ruby turned back towards the offered plate. She inhaled deeply through her nose. Her face lit up.

"Don't do it Ruby." said Jaune.

Ruby turned back to him, pouting.

Jaune ignored her indignation. Instead, he glanced at the man offering the plate of baked goodness. He lowered his gaze when the man met his eyes.

They were in a dark room with harsh lights and a metal table.

Cookies?

In this obviously-a-torture-chamber?

Ha!

How could Ruby even consider eating those? Could she not see this was some scary-ass weirdness?

Who knew what the hell was in those cookies? Did she want to wake up in a bathtub full of ice, in a Mistralian slum, with one of her kidneys missing?

"Miss Rose, these are freshly baked cookies—relatively speaking—with extra chocolate. I'm full, and Miss Goodwitch here hates joy and all things that cause it."

Jaune could not fathom how the strange gray-haired man managed to ignore the arsenic glare leveled at him by his peer. That woman seemed very capable and willing to commit…all manner of atrocities against her fellow man.

"If you don't eat these cookies, I fear they may go to waste…"

Ruby gasped. A full goddamn gasp. It sounded genuine too, as if the very notion of these cookies not find a home in her belly was too horrifying for her to even contemplate. "You mean if I don't eat them… _nobody_ will?"

"That's right, without you, these cookies will perish—without ever having fulfilled their destiny."

Jaune scoffed.

Like he or Ruby would fall for an attempt to make them _pity_ cookies for not being eaten. That was the kind of nonsense that worked on Cece. But on a man, like him? Along with a huntress-in-training…? There was no way in hell.

Ruby spun towards Jaune, silver eyes wide as swimming pools—and just as wet. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't save those cookies Jaune!"

Jaune stared at the girl for a moment. Was she…?

She sniffled.

Yep, she was serious.

Okay.

Jaune stared at the man who was so insistently forcing cookies on his new sugar-addicted friend. His half smile was constant and unmoving. His eyes did not waver, nor did his expression.

Was he playing Ruby like a piano? Or was Ruby just easily swayed? And why did he want her to eat these cookies? Was he just diffusing a tense situation for a young scared girl? Or did he have some other darker motive?

"Because Ruby," began Jaune, "they could be a trap."

Ruby deflated. "Oh."

"Whether these cookies are a trap or not isn't what you should ask yourself Miss Rose, rather; ask, if a true huntress, seeing the plight of these cookies, would care whether she was heading into a trap or not. Sometimes when there are innocents on the line, knowing it's a trap isn't enough to change your course."

Jaune gaped at that convoluted reasoning. He was mixing and mashing situations without rhyme or reason! Was there any way Ruby would actually consider…

Ruby glanced from the cookies to the boy denying her the cookies to the man offering her the cookies and back again.

In a blur of motion, she dragged the plate closer and practically inhaled a cookie. "I'm sorry Jaune," she said around a mouthful of chewed cookie, "I can't _abandon_ them."

Of course, she couldn't.

Jaune watched another three cookies disappear.

"Have you calmed down now Miss Rose?" asked Headmaster Ozpin.

Ruby nodded.

Jaune sighed, doing his best to relax.

Maybe the cookies _weren't_ a trap.

Maybe he was just acting like a paranoid little chicken.

Maybe those cookies were just an olive branch—extended to show that Ozpin meant no harm and to ease their nerves.

Of course, Jaune was still too queasy and terrified to eat one himself—also, Ruby looked as if she might cut off his hand if he reached for the plate.

He decided to, instead, study the two adults staring at him. Glynda's expression was locked in a fierce scowl. Jaune hoped that was just the resting position of her features—if not, then he was fairly certain he had managed to earn the hatred of the single scariest human being he had ever met.

She was like his mother—if his mother were to just… _stay_ angry. Forever.

Well. Maybe she wasn't _that_ bad.

His eyes drifted away from Goodwitch, to the other adult studying him. The man who had entered the room bearing the gift of chocolate chip cookies.

So, this was Ozpin, headmaster of Beacon.

There was something…underwhelming about him.

After meeting Peter Port and Glynda Goodwitch, Jaune had assumed the headmaster would be a monster—how else could he retain control of the school and his staff?

Now that Jaune was looking at him…he seemed like a pretty mellow and reasonable guy. Someone who made calm, collected, thoughtful decisions. He had this…serenity about him. The way he held himself, his placid expression, his ancient eyes—his countenance screamed maturity and wisdom.

Plus, while his schooled features certainly gave little away, Ozpin's obvious neutrality towards their actions in Vale was a welcome sight in the face of Glynda's open hostility.

This guy…this guy would understand when he told him he wasn't a huntsman. He'd get it when Jaune said he wanted to be a musician.

This…

This was the type of man who wanted nothing but the best for the people around him.

Jaune was lost in his thoughts for a minute or two as Ozpin shared some basic pleasantries with Ruby.

How was he going to tell him…?

How was he going to tell him that he didn't belong here?

Ozpin turned from Ruby to Jaune. "Mr. Arc, it is a pleasure to have you here at Beacon." He motioned towards the quickly depleting supply of sweets on the table. "Would you like a cookie?"

###

 _Fifteen minutes earlier_

Ozpin watched the bullhead on his screen closely.

He knew Glynda had requested a late-night ride into Vale.

And that could be for any reason really. The woman was busy. She was busy so that Ozpin didn't have to be.

He appreciated her sacrifice.

So, yes, Glynda could have left for any one of, potentially, dozens of reasons.

But Ozpin had a feeling it was a scotch run.

And if he could just get some evidence—a picture, a receipt, something…he'd have excellent distraction material for a while. He could use it to keep Glynda off his back. At least until Glynda realized that her near microscopic abuse of school resources was nothing compared to his own flagrant disregard for the definition of "business expense."

He glanced down at the secret compartment in his desk.

Yes, he supposed she'd even paid for the scotch with her own money.

How plebian.

Ozpin returned his attention to his monitor as one very irate looking Glynda exited the vehicle. No bags and no bottle. Well, that was a bust.

Ozpin continued watching, wondering why she had gone into Vale, only to return empty handed. She took a few steps away from the aircraft and then stopped.

Turning, she stamped her foot once and beckoned for some unknown entities to follow her.

Ozpin squinted at the moving image as two children exited the bullhead, a gangly blonde and a crimson midget. The blonde dropped to his hands and knees the moment his feet found solid ground. He looked as if he was retching.

The crimson midget vanished in a blur of red.

Glynda stopped the red mass with a flick of her crop. She deposited her next to the blonde rather roughly. The girl studied her feet as Glynda, no doubt, screamed bloody murder at her.

Not for the first time, Ozpin wished more of these damn cameras had sound.

 _Why would you need sound at an airpad?_

That's what that stupid technician had asked. Ozpin could still see his stupid gum-chewing lip-smacking face.

When Ozpin told the man that he would receive no payment until the job was completed _to Ozpin's specifications_ the laborer had begun asking annoying questions…

Like why a school for minors and just-barely-not-minors needed hundreds of _extra_ hidden cameras anyway.

In the end, Ozpin paid the man—just to make him go away. It had nothing to do with the fact that Glynda had been nearly within earshot at the time.

Nothing

Anyway, Jaune Arc and Ruby Rose.

Ozpin recognized Jaune from the pictures—plus he just looked like an Arc.

And Ruby Rose…

He'd been keeping tabs on her for a while now, ever since he had confirmed that she was born with Summer's gift. He hadn't expected to see her at his school for another two years.

But that was Glynda. She was a real expectation demolisher.

Ozpin sipped his dark ambrosia.

Mmm.

It was just about time for the midnight brew.

He preferred his late-night coffee with a hint of cinnamon, as opposed to his evening caramel, afternoon vanilla, midday almond, noon hazelnut, mid-morning spice, and wake-up black.

The only question was…

Would he have enough time to prepare it?

Before he had to deal with…whatever _this_ was? He drained the last dregs of his current cup, instinctively reaching for the pot and pouring himself the last serving.

Glynda was still out by the bullheads and she hadn't even started moving…

He could make it.

Ozpin reached for the button beneath his desk. A hidden drawer slid out to his right. It clanged as it extended fully, reminding Ozpin of the near indestructible metal of which it was made. Eight glass containers stared up at him. Several thousand Lien worth of gourmet beans—the best money could buy.

Ugh.

He forgot. He had to choose which bean to use. Mistralian Sun was a solid choice for cinnamon—it had its own heady warmth that paired well with an equally warm flavoring.

But, then again, Atlesian Frost was subtler—it paired beautifully with flavoring because of that.

Now, Ozpin was not the sort of coward who liked to hide the taste of his coffee behind the added flavor. But…still, sometimes it was nice for the extra flavoring to run the show a bit more.

God. Why was his life comprised of so many difficult choices?

He reached for the Atlesian.

Sometimes, a man just had to act.

He froze when he felt his scroll vibrating in his pocket. Given the time—and what he'd just seen via his security camera—Ozpin had a fair notion who was calling. Normally he wouldn't let anything interrupt his brewing session but he had a feeling no amount of coffee would be worth further enraging The Goodwitch.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Ozpin," said Glynda. She stared at him angrily.

Ozpin sighed. It was so unfair. What had he even done to deserve this hateful glare? "Glynda," said Ozpin.

"I came across Jaune Arc in town today," began Glynda.

"Oh?" replied Ozpin.

"He was in the company of one Ruby Rose," Glynda continued.

"Ah. Miss Rose, I hear she is looking more like her mother every day."

"You hear that? Or you're watching us through one of your blasted cameras right now?"

Ozpin cleared his throat. "You mean to say you brought Miss Rose here? On campus?"

"Don't test me Ozpin. As soon as Arc stops puking I'll be bringing them both to the questioning room."

"You know Glynda, Miss Rose is not a student here. And Mr. Arc's student life at Beacon will not begin for another day. I don't think it is within our purview to punish them for breaking curfew…"

"How about engaging in active urban warfare, causing an explosion in downtown Vale, and nearly killing a civilian? Is that within our _purview_ Ozpin?"

"Hey!"

Ozpin heard a childish female voice in the background.

"Jaune didn't cause that explosion! He was fighting Roman and…"

Glynda turned away from the camera. "You will have ample time to explain yourself when you are questioned Miss Rose. Until such time, you will remain silent. Am I understood?"

Glynda did not wait for any audible affirmation from Ruby. She turned back to Ozpin with narrowed gaze. "I expect Jaune Arc's case to be handled _exactly_ as you would handle any other.

"Well, how _do I_ usually handle cases like these?" replied Ozpin, sipping coffee.

"We shall see," said Glynda. "Meet me in the questioning room in ten minutes."

Then the audio cut and the screen went black.

Ozpin set down his mug gently on his desk.

Well…

Damn.

Ten minutes wasn't enough time to brew anything. Ozpin felt around under his desk again. His fingers slipped over his usual hidden compartment button, finding a second. A drawer slid open on the left side of his desk. He plucked out a glass bottle, filled with coffee.

It was no fresh piping hot cup…but it would have to do. He poured the bottle's contents into his mug and retrieved a cinnamon stick.

He sipped at the lukewarm beverage. It was…well, it was coffee so it was better than ninety-nine-point-nine percent of his life. But it wasn't as good as his usual.

Now, onto the problem at hand.

Dealing with Glynda.

There was an art to handling Glynda Goodwitch when she was pissed—and no one was more skilled or more experienced in that art than him.

His position was better than usual. Glynda was mad—but not at him.

Ozpin intended to keep it that way.

It was nothing personal. He just needed all that anger and pent-up sexual frustration to stay directed at the kids.

Because otherwise…

He'd have to deal with it.

And that would just blow.

Glynda's rage was absolutely terrifying. As for her sexual frustration…

Well, Ozpin preferred 'em flatter. **_Not_** younger. Just…flatter.

Fortunately, the kids looked robust and mentally acute. They could handle a bit of grumpy Glynda.

So, that was decided. He'd keep Glynda's attention on the kids. Now, how could he use this situation to improve his own standing with the irate queen of Beacon? There was an opportunity here; he just needed to sniff it out.

His crappy lukewarm coffee wasn't helping his thinking speeds much.

"Jaune Arc…she knows I accepted him long past the enrollment period. She _doesn't_ know I'm the one who made up his entire transcript…" In all his life, Ozpin had never been more grateful to see half his scheme survive contact with the enemy.

What else was there? Glynda had also seemed to...accept his statement that the Arc's received special treatment because their powerful bloodline was an absolute necessity for victory against Salem—not because Rictus sent him exotic coffees from his travels around Remnant—some only available in small towns and villages with no international trade potential. In fact, many of the coffees his friend sent to him were so difficult to obtain that one had to face a horde of grim just to get near the plants for harvest…

Ozpin groaned as he remembered the near-arousing aroma that came from that brew.

As far as he was concerned Rictus was _the_ most upstanding huntsman in Vale's history.

The man was a goddamn national treasure.

…

What had he been thinking about before?

Right, Glynda and favoritism.

He was going to throw her off the scent. Somehow.

Ozpin stood and headed for the elevator.

What did he have to work with? There was Jaune Arc himself. Proving him to be an asset not just to Beacon, but to their great cause shouldn't be difficult. He was an Arc after all. Half the things Ozpin had made up on Jaune's application the young man had probably actually done.

Like cutting an Ursa in half with a Beowolf.

He remembered Mel saying something about their father forcing them to learn how to fight Grimm—using another Grimm as a weapon.

Ozpin wasn't certain how that would look.

Or how it would work.

Or how it was even physically possible.

But these were Arcs for god's sake! As Rictus always said, where there's an Arc there's a way.

So, he would play up Jaune as the force of nature he no doubt was. That was easy enough.

And Ruby…daughter of Summer.

Huh.

The daughter of a silver eyed warrior and a son of the Arcs.

He could put Glynda in check by highlighting how deserving Jaune was of a place here. And he'd put her in mate when he offered Ruby a place at Beacon too—despite her age. He couldn't be nepotistic if he extended the honor to _any_ suitably skilled young person, could he?

Of course, he could be.

And he was.

But it'd be a hell of a lot harder to prove if he gave out the honor to multiple people. And that's what mattered.

Ozpin's mind raced. He'd need to stop in the kitchen. Miss Rose looked like a girl who liked her sweets. She had that energetic high-pitched voice, and round childish face that made Ozpin think it was possible the only things, in all Remnant, she was capable of truly hating were vegetable.

Some sugar would give the girl a healthy dose of dopamine—making her nice and pliable when he shaped her into one of her pieces in this upcoming conversation and maneuvered her around his makeshift board with all the precision of a grandmaster player.

Also, offering a gift was the easiest way to create a feeling of debt between strangers. That sense of debt would benefit him immensely during the conversation.

The Arc would be more…difficult.

Not just getting him to take a cookie, although that would certainly be a daunting task—considering he'd likely know exactly what Ozpin was attempting.

Manipulating an Arc generally was simply…hard. Even for an expert in human nature like himself.

The Arc mind—all the Arc minds—were like steel traps. They missed nothing, they doubted everything—always on the lookout for strategies and manipulation—ready to weave their own and destroy the efforts of their opponent.

They could be brutal, unforgiving, and blunt.

Ozpin had known a few Arcs throughout his lifetimes. They were all the same—without fail. An indomitable mental and physical force, ready to take on anyone, regardless of a gap in experience, skill, or education.

They would not falter.

Which is why the only people on this planet Ozpin truly feared were the men and women who married into that insane family.

Holy shit, he couldn't imagine it. The Arc's wouldn't accept weakness in their partners. Submit to them. And they'll walk all over you—stand against them and they might just break your limbs. The women and men who somehow tore through all that and were accepted into the family—they were proof that monsters walk amongst men.

Most of them had rivalled an Arc in physical strength—which was already horrifying enough.

But then there was Willow Arc.

Ozpin's coffee suddenly didn't taste so good. He'd forgotten that Jaune was _her_ son. They'd only met twice—both times under…less than fortunate circumstances. But both times she'd been eneraged at him.

Ozpin had to remind himself regularly throughout her murderous tirade that she was not a huntress and could not harm him.

Physically that was. Sometimes he still teared up a little when he thought of some of the things she had said to him that day.

Since Jaune Arc was raised by that monster…

 _And_ he was personally trained by Rictus…

Ozpin tilted his head to the left until his neck cracked. He'd better pull out all the stops on this one. No matter what…today, he'd make Jaune his pawn—Ozpin imagined Rictus's glowering face.

Scratch that.

He'd make Jaune his queen.

The most powerful piece on the board. As was befitting an Arc.

Imaginary Rictus was pacified—a bit.

All he needed now were those cookies. He'd make short work of Ruby.

And—who knew—maybe he was overthinking Jaune. Maybe he was about to meet his first soft Arc. One way or another, he'd know what he was up against the moment he offered him a cookie.

###

Jaune was beginning to relax.

This was good. He hadn't realized it at first. But this was good.

He was in a room with the headmaster of Beacon. He seemed like a reasonable guy. A nice one too!

He'd even brought cookies to an interrogation.

Sure, Jaune had initially regarded that action as creepy as all hell. But after a moment of consideration he realized this was a school—a school with an interrogation room. But still a school. Was it strange that a man who had been working with children for decades would offer two potentially terrified and certainly nervous teenagers a treat to take their mind off things?

Absolutely not.

This was the act of an inherently good person. A person who would probably have a good laugh with Jaune explained he had no credentials and did not belong here. Not only would the headmaster find the whole ordeal hilarious—he'd probably thank Jaune for being brave enough to come forward with the truth. Jaune would, naturally, accept the praise with all the aplomb and grace his Arc heritage afforded him—in other words, he would stutter and stammer out some gratitude.

Then he'd be back in his hotel in an hour.

And at the VAA a day after that.

And all would be perfect.

Jaune could feel the beginning of a smile forming on his lips.

The only question left now was…how?

How was he going to tell him that he didn't belong here?

Ozpin turned from Ruby towards Jaune. "Mr. Arc, it is a pleasure to have you here at Beacon." He motioned towards the quickly depleting supply of sweets on the table. "Would you like a cookie?"

"No thanks, watching my figure." Jaune meant it as a joke—the truth was he still felt ill from their horrible ride in that god-awful flying deathtrap. But he noticed Ozpin's eyes suddenly narrow.

Jaune wasn't sure what to make of it.

It wasn't quite fury.

But it certainly wasn't amusement.

Was the man not a fan of humor?

Or had he simply not understood the joke?

Perhaps he thought Jaune was serious?

Should he try to explain the joke then? Or would that just make things worse…? Would he think Jaune was calling him stupid?

That was the _last_ thing Jaune wanted.

Perhaps it was best to just stay as quiet as humanly possible until he found a good moment to explain himself. His mother did tell him it was his mouth that got him in trouble. Maybe he'd be fine if he didn't speak?

"Mr. Arc," began headmaster Ozpin.

His voice sounded strangely forced, as if beneath his pleasant exterior and open offer was a threat of some kind.

"I think it would really help you calm down if you took a cookie."

Jaune met the man's laser-focused eyes. They were scary intense. Yeah. Okay. He'd have that cookie then. Jaune reached for the one of the last three cookies on the plate. Another disappeared into Ruby's mouth even as he gripped his own with trembling fingers.

He brought the treat to his mouth. Eyes locked with Ozpin. Maybe this guy really did want his kidney. But Ruby hadn't keeled over yet so maybe not.

He opened his mouth and bit down.

The cookie tasted like…

Nothing. It tasted like nothing. It didn't even have mass.

The tension in the room stretched like a massive rubber band that could tear a man in half rather than sting.

He glanced to his left. Ruby was gaping at him with a mixture of shock, horror, and pity. In front of him Glynda's face remained just as furious as she had been on the flight to Beacon.

Ozpin though…Ozpin looked grim, as if he were preparing for battle.

Jaune looked down at his empty hand.

Then he looked down at the fractured cookie on the floor.

He…

He...

He dropped it.

Since when had he been that damn clumsy?

He looked back up, specifically at Ozpin. The man was not happy. That much was obvious.

What should he say?

What should he do?

Apologize? Pretend it hadn't happened? Grab that last cookie before Ruby recovered from her shock?

He had to say something. The pause was too…

Pregnant.

The pause was too pregnant.

But what should he say? What could he do?

Unbidden, another cringe-charged attempt at humor escaped his throat. "Mmm. That was delicious."

Ozpin's glare was frigid. It softened when he turned back to Ruby.

"Miss Rose, why don't you tell me what happened in Vale? Please begin with why you were there in the first place."

"Well," started Ruby, "I came to Vale with Yang, you know, to say goodbye. Because she's coming here." Ruby flailed her arms about, motioning to the entire room.

"Miss Xia Long?" interrupted Glynda. "Where was she?"

"She's probably still at the hotel," answered Ruby. "There was an Achieve Man documentary on—and then there was supposed to be a live concert after that. She _might_ not have even noticed how long I've been gone."

The way Ruby stressed the word might gave Jaune the impression that it was also possible this Yang _might_ have been tearing Vale apart searching for her little sister.

 _Might_.

"Please continue with your explanation of events Miss Rose," said Ozpin, offering her a gentle smile.

"Okay," said Ruby. "So, I went on a cookie run. But I didn't know where to go. So, I just walked down the street and went into the first store that was still open and looked like they'd have some. I got distracted by a weapons magazine. And then I met my new friend Jaune."

"New friend hmm?" asked Ozpin, he shot Jaune a sideways glance.

Jaune wasn't sure how to interpret that look.

"Yep," replied Ruby with a laugh. A few seconds later she looked rather abashed. "We're still friends right Jaune?"

Jaune was too caught up in his thoughts to give her question the full attention it deserved. Instead he said, "Huh? Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't we be? Best of friends, me and you."

Ruby's smile stretched from ear to ear.

"I see," said Ozpin, glancing between the two teens. "Please continue Miss Rose."

"Anyway, I thought Jaune was a pervert at first because of the way he grabbed me but it turns out he was really nice."

"He grabbed you…?" questioned Glynda. Jaune felt himself beginning to rise from his chair—and not of his own accord.

Fortunately, Ruby came to his rescue, "it was just an accident though. I was falling and he caught me."

Jaune was already six inches above his chair when he was promptly dropped.

"And then we…" Ruby drifted off. "Well I guess we talked for a little while and next thing we knew the store was being robbed." Her voice gradually got quieter as she spoke, as if hit with a sudden realization. She studied her hands. "Then I made a mistake."

Jaune, despite still desperately wondering how he could appease Ozpin about the cookie situation and avoid getting murdered by Glynda altogether, was drawn out of his thoughts of self-preservation by Ruby's small, quiet voice.

He watched the girl begin to curl in on herself. "One of the bad guys came up to us with a big knife. And I asked him if he was robbing us and he said yes. And I saw Jaune reaching for his pockets. He was going to give the thief his money." If it was possible Ruby got even smaller. "I thought it was because he was a scared civilian. But now I see he just didn't want to destroy that poor old man's store. I-I thought I had to fight them. I thought that's what it meant to be a huntress. I tried to take the fight outside and most of them followed me. But…the one with the orange hair stayed inside—"

"Orange hair?" asked Ozpin sharply. He turned to Glynda "Was it Torchwick?"

Glynda nodded sharply.

"Who's Torchwick?" asked Jaune.

"A very dangerous criminal," said Ozpin thoughtfully, looking at Jaune, for the first time, without some form of malice. "A former huntsman in fact."

"You guys have evil huntsman out here?" said Jaune more to himself than anything else. "I want to go home already." And he sort of, kind of, definitely was being honest about that.

Ozpin sipped from the mug he had hardly touched since he had first entered the room, presenting his plate of cookies.

"Please continue Miss Rose."

"Well, the guys I fought weren't so tough. I took them out pretty fast."

"And Roman?"

"Jaune fought him—until Roman decided to blow up the store. You should have seen Jaune," Ruby's voice began to surge with her usual energy. "He used the explosive blast to get away from the fire, rode it right across the street and into a bush—while carrying the old man. Then he—"

"Miss Rose," interrupted Ozpin. "How do you know Roman blew up the store?"

"Huh?" said Ruby.

"You said you took your fight outside of the store—yet you report that it was Roman who caused the explosion within the store. How could you have witnessed this event taking place? Aren't you making some assumptions—or at least sharing another person's testimony? In a store filled to the brim with dust—could it not have been a discharge from Mister Arc's weapon that set off the explosion? Did you actually see Roman Torchwick cause the explosion?"

What the hell? Was Ozpin trying to pin this entire thing on him? Was he going to be held financially responsible for all the damage to that store?

Jaune made to speak.

He was beaten to it.

"Well…no," replied Ruby. "But how could Jaune have caused the explosion? He didn't even have his weapon!"

Jaune didn't like the way Ozpin and Glynda's eyes turned into saucers as they stared at him. Suddenly Ozpin was shooting him the same casual smile he'd been giving Ruby throughout this meeting. Maybe it would have been disarming if he'd opened with that. Now, after the look he'd received upon dropping that cookie, it felt a little neurotic.

No.

Neurotic wasn't the right word.

"So, Mister Arc." His voice was caring, friendly, and reserved—all at once. "Let's pick up where Ruby leaves the store—actually let's just skip to the part where you took on Roman Torchwick—a criminal mastermind with the skills of a full-fledge huntsman, bare-handed and—dare I say it—won."

Predatorial.

That was the word Jaune was looking for.

He felt preyed on.

###

Ozpin had to suppress a grin.

He couldn't afford to give away to Glynda how much he was enjoying this.

He'd come into this conversation expecting a challenge.

The explosion?

He had figured that was started by the Arc.

The fight?

Also, the Arc's doing.

Mouthing off to Glynda the whole way back to Beacon only further pissing her off?

It was like the golden play in the Arc playbook.

He had come into this situation thinking he would have to convince Glynda that Jaune Arc still deserved a place in their school despite a series of Arc style shenanigans that almost always ended with the loss of limb, property, and—sometimes—life.

Things hadn't started well. Jaune's initial refusal to take a cookie and his mocking display at Ozpin's second offer of a treat had been so reminiscent of Mel's cold, mean, and sarcastic demeanor that Ozpin had assumed he was just as reckless, dangerous, and prone to property damage as his aunt had been.

But as it turned out, Jaune's huntsman senses were a dozen times better than Mel's. He had attempted to defuse a robbery—rather than fight. Then, when his hand was forced he fought Roman alone, unarmed, and unfazed. Then, rather than pursue the criminal—he saved the life of a civilian.

Jaune Arc was not a dangerous unbalanced huntsman.

He was talented, skilled, and thoughtful.

He was a just a terrible person. But that wasn't an expellable offense.

Ozpin had noticed Glynda's white knuckles when Ruby stated that the two of them became fast friends in the convenience store.

She knew as well as he did that the Arc's could be a calculating bunch—he was probably using Ruby for something. Was it possible Rictus wanted to mix the arc bloodline with that of a silver-eyed warrior? What kind of warrior-god would that create?

Could also be Jaune was looking for an easy lay. _Again,_ not an expellable offense!

Although…

Ozpin would need to have words with Rictus if this boy was the sort to do that to a girl as pure and happy as Ruby.

Ozpin tuned back into reality when Jaune spoke.

"I wouldn't say 'I took on' Roman…" Jaune drawled. "It was more like…I tried to crush him with—"

Ozpin interrupted him. It was best to stop there. He had confirmed that he was a warrior beyond Roman's skill. No need to have him ruin the points that would score with Glynda by letting him go off on some arrogant tangent about how he hadn't "fought" Torchwick but simply "crushed" him. Although, personally, Ozpin would have loved to hear all about it—well if he'd had a fresh cup of coffee he would. As it was—he really wanted to go brew.

He needed to wrap this up.

"So why did Roman decide to blow up the store?" questioned Ozpin.

"I don't really know what happened," replied Jaune. "I think he was a bit disconcerted and he just wanted to get a shot off."

"Why do you believe he was disconcerted?"

"Well he was about to get smooshed by—"

"So, allow me to ensure that I understand you," said Ozpin, excited. "You pressured Roman—without a weapon—to the extent that he felt his only option was to open fire in a dust store—and he may have even purposefully shot the dust storage to even the playing field against a superior opponent." Ozpin glanced up at Glynda. The woman rolled her eyes.

Heh, he was winning.

"Well," replied Jaune, "I didn't say any of that last part. And I didn't really say the fir—"

"Are you a melee fighter Mister Arc?" interrupted Ozpin.

"No, I'm not _any_ kind of fighter."

"A jack of all trades then? Usually I recommend students specialize but if you can fight on Torchwick's level—with _anything_ then I suppose you'll be fine." Ozpin sent Glynda another look.

"Listen Headmaster, Miss Goodwitch I didn't fight Roman. I was just trying to survive the—"

"—boredom?" Ozpin finished for him. He noticed a hint of displeasure in the kid's eyes.

What did he expect? He couldn't use the same lines as his grandfather and expect Ozpin not to recognize what he was saying.

"Listen Jaune," said Ozpin, opting to use the boy's first name, to make sure he had his attention. "May I be frank?" Ozpin waited long enough for Jaune to open his mouth. He began again before the boy had the chance to actually speak "I know you're an Arc. You know you're an Arc. Glynda knows you're an Arc. Ruby…" he glanced at the confused looking fifteen-year-old girl. "Probably doesn't even know who the Arcs are. My point is, we get it. Roman Torchwick was a walk in the park for you."

Ozpin slipped in a couple of lines he had heard Rictus use over the years. "It was almost a workout—but the only thing he exercised was your patience… You would have enjoyed it but you take no pleasure in beating children—or huntsmen who fight like them… You would call him weak—only that would be an insult to strong hunters who aren't Arcs… I've heard it all before, and I already acknowledge the superiority of Arc warriors over most others, so can we drop all of that?"

"But I—" began Jaune.

"Mister Arc, please."

Ozpin could feel Glynda's heat dissipating behind him. Letting her see him cut an Arc down to size was having the desired effect.

He'd tell Jaune to disregard everything he said here later, in private.

"Wait," said Ruby, eyes wide. "Is Jaune from some kind of super warrior family?"

"Irrelevant, Miss Rose," Ozpin responded. "You may ask Mister Arc about his family on your own time. As it is, I think it has become increasingly apparent that much of the fault for this rests on your shoulders. That said, more res—"

"That's not fair!" bellowed Jaune without warning.

###

Jaune was frustrated.

He was frustrated and he was angry.

He was frustrated because no one would let him explain the ridiculous circumstances that had landed him in this position.

But he was used to this sort of frustration. One didn't grow up with seven sisters without learning how to deal with being talked over.

His anger though…

That was separate from his frustration.

The two couldn't be less related.

He was angry because Ozpin had just blamed Ruby for what went down in that store. And it wasn't her fault _at all_. There was a man with a knife, threatening them and she _acted._ What the hell was wrong with that?

Sure, it ended with the store going up in a blaze. But that was on Roman—from beginning to end.

"What's not fair?" asked Ozpin after a moment of silence.

It took Jaune a moment to realized he hadn't verbally followed up his outburst. "None of this was Ruby's fault. She was just trying to help. Roman's the one who blew up that store!"

Ozpin and Glynda exchanged a look.

"Mister Arc…" began Ozpin, "would you wager your own enrollment on the belief that Ruby was in the right?"

You mean if they found Ruby guilty they'd kick him out of this terrifying school?

"Absolutely," replied Jaune without hesitation.

Ozpin and Glynda exchanged another glance, obviously some kind of silent conversation took place between them.

"Well, you are in luck Mister Arc. I happen to agree with you."

Oh.

Well.

That was great.

Jaune resisted the urge to slam his head into the metal table between them.

"If you had allowed me to finish Mister Arc you would have heard me say, That much more than the fault that rests on Ruby's shoulders for not thinking of how a huntress should conduct herself in a city full of civilians, is the fault that rests on the shoulders of her education. And much more than that on the shoulders of Roman Torchwick. As for Roman's role—well I believe that to be obvious. As for the role of Ruby's education..."

Ozpin turned to Ruby. "You clearly have the combat skills, the courage, and the sense of duty of a more experienced huntress. Your mastery of, perhaps, the _most_ dangerous weapons among huntresses and huntsmen is evidence enough of that. You are already at the stage in your development where you must carefully consider your place in the world in relation to civilians…the government… society. Signal, is a combat school. They don't spend much time on the mental and societal ramifications of being a huntress."

"I think Uncle Qrow talked about the 'societal responsibilities' of being a hunter a couple of times though," said Ruby uncertainly.

"Thank you, Miss Rose, that is an excellent example of how underequipped combat schools are for teaching young huntresses and huntsmen to become well-adjusted members of society."

"What's the example?" asked Ruby.

"Hiring your uncle as a teacher," said Glynda curtly.

Ruby looked as if she wanted to come to her uncle's defense with some vigor. But she also looked as if she didn't really feel comfortable contradicting Glynda.

This coming from the girl who'd been begging for her autograph an hour ago. Guess she'd been just as horrified and confused by the whole "drink it" thing too.

Ruby settled on, what Jaune considered to be, a reasonably lopsided compromised.

"Uncle Qrow's not that bad," she spoke sheepishly.

Jaune could have sworn he heard Ruby add "with a scythe" under her breath.

"Yes, well, far be it from us to badmouth your family Miss Rose," continued Ozpin, "Having a drinking habit does not exclude you from being a great hunter. Whether your particular poison is practically grain alcohol or an entire bottle of 25-year-old scotch."

The table before them groaned ominously, as if a great weight had been set atop it.

"Anyway," continued Ozpin, smiling easily, "Miss Rose, I would like to welcome you to Beacon."

"What!?" cried Ruby and Glynda, near simultaneous.

Ozpin looked up at Glynda. "What is one more student outside of the registration period Glynda? I told you it's not nepotism. Sometimes special cases require special consideration." He returned his attention to the brunette in front of him, "so, Ruby, what do you think?"

For a moment Ruby did not speak—but Jaune did not think she was lost in thought. He was fairly sure her brain had stopped working. Her jaw moved dumbly for a moment, not producing any real words.

Fifteen seconds of silence passed. And then Ruby returned—with a vengeance—clearly panicking. "Beacon? Me? Now? Today? But I…fifteen…Yang…I…"

After twenty seconds of confused babbling. She finally made a coherent statement. "But all my friends are at Signal. I'd…be alone." She studied her hands.

Jaune felt his heart lurch for the girl. She was so much like Cece. It felt as if he were watching his younger sister struggle through some terrible dilemma. He wanted to help her…

But was there any way he could?

No.

He didn't know her well enough. Hell, they'd only been acquainted for an hour or two. He couldn't be a part of an important life decision like this. He'd lead her wrong—not out of any sense of malevolence—but out of ignorance.

He didn't know what she wanted from life…

He didn't know what she needed…

Yeah.

He needed to stay as far away from this life altering decision as he could—for Ruby's sake.

"You wouldn't be alone," offered Ozpin helpfully, "you'll have Jaune."

It was Glynda's and Jaune's turn to synchronize reactions. They both blanched

"Ozpin," Glynda's tone was low, dangerous.

Ozpin ignored her. "It's only one friend, sure. But one true friend who will stand by you through thick and thin is a hundred times better than a dozen maybe-sort-of friends who haven't fought side by side with you against a dangerous criminal."

Jaune gaped at Ozpin. He gaped and he gaped and he gaped.

He snapped to his left, towards Ruby.

Good God! Ruby couldn't possibly see any merit in Ozpin's advice, right? _Right_?

They'd known each other for a _couple of hours_. Surely, she wasn't going to even _consider his existence_ as she thought through a life altering, mind boggling decision?

Ruby finally spoke, "That's true. I forgot about Jaune."

As she should have!

"I think I'd really like going to school with you Jaune…" She bit her lip, glancing at Jaune from her peripheral.

It was not an expression Jaune was very accustomed to seeing Cece make. It made him…uncomfortable.

"Especially if you're from some kind of crazy warrior family!" She smiled.

There it was. That was more like Cece.

A second later her eyes lit up. "Plus, I really want to see your weapon!"

Cece all the way.

He must have imagined that first one.

Jaune shook his head, trying to clear that distinctly feminine image from his mind.

"Jaune…"

He turned back to Ruby.

He was not prepared.

"W-wh—"

His heart stammered—just as his lips had.

The expression was reminiscent of Cece's pout but Ruby's eyes were bigger. And they were silver. Jaune had built up a tolerance for wide longing blue eyes but, for some reason, everything changed when they were silver.

Who knew?

There was also a raw vulnerability there. Something absent from when his sisters wanted to use or abuse him. There was something on the line here. Something inside of Ruby. Something fragile.

Goddamnit. This was Ellie's fault. Not the Roman thing, or even him being dragged here. But the fact that they all thought he was going to be a student was one-hundred-twenty percent on her.

Jaune was never going to let her hear the end of this.

His angry rant was cut short by Ruby's voice.

She was quiet, like the beat of a butterfly's wings.

Or…

Well, something louder than a butterfly's wings since her voice was still audible.

"Jaune, will you promise to be my friend no matter what if I come to Beacon? You won't leave me?"

Jaune stared into those intense silver pools. He'd probably never find his way out from the labyrinth in her eyes if he allowed himself to get lost in there.

As it was, the feeling of dread in his stomach prevented him from going too deep.

What was he supposed to say to a question like that?

No?

Sorry I can't?

There was only one thing to do. There was silence. Every eye was on him. He wouldn't get interrupted.

It was time to explain to two terrifying beings and one soon-to-be-heartbroken girl that he was not a huntsman and that he did not belong here.

This was it. This was where dug his feet in and told destiny that it was his bitch.

Not the other way around!

"Absolutely Ruby. I'll co-captain the socially retarded club with you till we graduate."

What the mother-trucking bloody hell was that?

"Really!?" Ruby squealed and threw her arms around Jaune's neck.

Jaune hugged her back, still confused by the words that—apparently, he had thought up, organized, and spoke into existence.

Why didn't his brain ever notify the rest of him about its plans?

Jaune imagined his brain screaming that this one wasn't on him. As Ruby's forehead rested on his chest, right above his rapidly beating heart, Jaune knew exactly which part of him had made this call.

"Okay I'll do it!" said Ruby.

"Great," said Ozpin with a big shit-eating grin.

Glynda looked far less thrilled.

Jaune swore internally. Did this change things?

Did it have to?

No.

Was it going to?

Of course, it would.

Maybe he could explain it privately to Ruby…

Then later to Ozpin and Miss Goodwitch…

Then still make it to the VAA in time for initiation.

Ozpin turned to his associate. "Miss Goodwitch will you please show them to their quarters? I believe we—"

"Wait," interrupted Jaune. "Our quarters? You mean we have to sleep here?"

"Well, Mister Arc, I'm afraid the last official flight from Beacon left four or five hours ago. Additionally, after causing so much damage to downtown Vale. And with the police, obviously investigating the situation. It's for the best if you all stay here until initiation."

Jaune froze. Until initiation.

But…Beacon initiation was the same day as the VAA's.

But…he wasn't a huntsman.

 _But... he couldn't properly operate a door!_

"Yes, you and Miss Rose will stay on academy premises until initiation."

"And after that?", asked Jaune, dreading the answer.

"Well, after that, you'll be students." Ozpin drained the last remnants of whatever was in his mug. "So, you'll be here for another four years."

Who's whose bitch now?

Jaune could hear destiny laughing.

 **No beta. Sleep now. Uploaded at 11:58. Still Wednesday. Mission accomplished. Errors my bad.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A couple of announcements, and then I'll address a story thing.**

 **First, I have a beta for this fic,** ** _Karismatickoala_** **mad props to him. He's volunteered to do technical editing—which is not an easy task for fics with long chapters. He did an awesome job on this one. And I'm excited to keep working with him. (Wish him luck, because I can be kind of sketchy about my timetables. Eek.) There'll be a note from Karismatic in the ending author's note.**

 **Also: He didn't get to edit the last few pages because I took too long to write them—so errors in those are absolutely, 150%, me.**

 **Second, I'll be updating on Thursdays for my long fics, because if I finish writing on Wednesdays I need time to get it to and from my betas. (I have someone else who reads all my fics for content and character stuff. Have no doubt, his job is nowhere near as difficult as Karismatic. He basically just points to stuff in my chapter and says** ** _"Blergh"_** **then I go…uh…guess I'll write it differently then?)**

 **So, just to address some stuff before someone asks and I have to address it anyway.**

 **Yes, Jaune already knows about aura in this fic.**

 **Whatttt?**

 **Yep, this is kind of my default state of writing him. I know in the show Pyrrha teaches him about aura during initiation—and this serves the dual purpose of explaining aura to the viewer as well.**

 **The problem is it paints me into a bit of a hole concerning Jaune's home life.**

 **I'm actually worried about how the show's going to handle Jaune's family because of this as well (If we ever get to meet them, Jaune is, after all, not the title character).**

 **The show pretty strongly indicates that Jaune has some huntsmen heroes in his lineage. That statue at Beacon might be an Arc. Crocea Mors is a family heirloom. Etcetera…**

 **But Jaune not knowing what aura is kind of indicates that his immediate family aren't huntsmen...**

 **Maybe they're cabbage farmers?**

 **I dunno, but I think I'll be really sad if canon decides the point of contest between Jaune and his family is that he wants to be a hero and they're all plain simple people. The idea that some of his sisters are huntresses and his father is as well I think actually makes for a better backstory.**

 **Now, one can argue, maybe Jaune has huntsmen around him—but they keep aura a secret from "normies" so he never found out about it.**

 **Or maybe Jaune's just really dumb. (Likelike really, really dumb.)**

 **I don't like either of these solutions.**

 **A. The idea that Jaune wouldn't notice something was up when his huntress sisters recover from injuries faster, are generally stronger and more resilient, can't get injured the first time around a sparring match, etcetera…well that goes right into the next point.**

 **B. Jaune isn't dumb. Spineless except for when it counts? Yes. Cowardly until he needs to be something more? Yes. Dumb? No.**

 **Plus, its awful difficult to imagine that aura is some kind of big secret kept from civilians—when most young hunters get It unlocked when they're** ** _young_** **teenagers—pre-Beacon.**

 **In other words. I'm interested to see how the show might, eventually, handle this. I want them to make the rest of the Arcs as fun as I've always envisioned them.**

 **But I guess cabbage farmers would make more sense, considering Jaune doesn't know about aura in cannon.**

 **Scary thoughts, to me at least.**

 **Without Further Ado,**

Guitar Huntsman Chapter 4

After Jaune's… _unfortunate_ meeting with the headmaster of Beacon, Miss Goodwitch led him and Ruby on a quest to procure some keycards.

She had to wake up a disgruntled employee, although said employee directed most of his complaints towards the headmaster, not the woman who had woken him, or the kids who had caused the fuss in the first place.

Jaune and Ruby still received a baleful glare though.

Once the keycards had been programmed they parted ways with the half-asleep employee, Glynda leading them down a series of halls.

The silence throughout their journey was… uncomfortable.

Jaune and Ruby had already proven to get on well enough. The two wouldn't be winning any awards for their sterling dialogue, but Jaune had enjoyed those few minutes in the store—before the world went to hell at least. So, really, a conversation honestly shouldn't have been so difficult.

But the pressure of Glynda's presence was like smoke in their lungs. Or, more accurately, like a clamp crushing their throats.

The woman was not happy.

No, that didn't quite do her justice.

The woman wasn't just "unhappy." She was furious, outraged, appalled.

She was several stages past "unhappy."

Neither Jaune nor Ruby needed to know or understand the woman to see it; her anger was … less than subtle.

There was the force with which she stamped the ground with every step. There was the way she gritted her teeth. The way her brow turned down. The way she kept muttering. The way red kept flaring up her neck when her muttering reminded her of how angry she was. The way her knuckles whitened as she gripped the crop that had been stashed somewhere on her person until recently...

The way she glared at everything as if considering, "would it be fine for me to smash this object, fixture, or wall into oblivion?" Thankfully, she decided against it—although she paused for a few moments longer when her eyes fell on Jaune, probably considering his aura and thus natural resilience.

Jaune wondered how shocked she'd be when he died instantly?

Of course, this could all have been the product of Jaune's hyperactive imagination.

It could have been.

Maybe Goodwitch was nicer than she seemed.

She _was_ a teacher. Maybe she was just a strict hard-ass—and that was what made her seem violent and terrifying. Yeah. Jaune just needed to take a few deep calming breaths and collect himself. Then this whole situation wouldn't seem so bad. Ozpin was competent. Glynda was nice. Ruby was…

Jaune glanced at the quiet brunette on his left. Despite the crushing atmosphere stealing their voices, her eyes were still wide and her head on a swivel, drinking in everything as if the school wouldn't always be.

Well, Ruby actually _was_ sweet.

Glynda halted suddenly, spinning, hand outstretched.

Jaune was surprised and did not react well.

He leapt backwards, throwing his hands over his face. "Please, no!"

He peeked between his fingers when he realize he hadn't been launched down the hall at one-hundred miles per hour.

In Glynda's outstretched hands were the two key cards.

"Are you mocking me…Mister Arc?" asked the teacher, eyes narrowed.

"What?!" Jaune yelped, dropping his arm. After a pause, he managed calm down enough to lower his voice, "No. I would never."

Jaune thought he sounded sincere.

Apparently, Miss Goodwitch didn't agree. At least, if the way she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, as if restraining herself was any indication, she didn't agree.

"These temporary keys will give you access to your rooms," said Glynda, hands extended.

Jaune accepted a plastic card, as did Ruby.

"Obviously, these are not your final room assignments. After initiation, you, and the rest of your team, will be assigned a permanent living space. Your access will then be synchronized with your scrolls. The cards I am giving you now are reserved for guests. Do _not_ lose them."

Jaune wilted under that burning gaze.

Ruby managed to stay a bit more upbeat, fiddling with her scroll. "I better call Yang. She's probably freaking out right now."

"You may tell Miss Xiao Long that she is welcome to take the earliest available bullhead to Beacon tomorrow morning. Also, I will speak to your father myself, tonight if I can reach him; tomorrow, if not." Glynda's features softened as she inhaled. "Ozpin – he sometimes moves a little _too_ quickly. How old are you Ruby?"

"Fifteen," replied Ruby.

"Fifteen," repeated Glynda, slightly incredulous. "You cannot attend Beacon without your father's explicit permission."

"I'm sure he'll say yes," said Ruby quickly.

"Perhaps, but there is still the matter of informing him of your actions tonight."

"Is that really necessary?" asked Ruby from the side of her mouth, kicking at the ground.

"Yes," replied Glynda shortly. Gods, this woman was merciless. She turned towards Jaune. "As for your parents…" Glynda trailed off as she looked him over.

Jaune tried to stay strong under her death-ray eyes.

Was Glynda going to call his parents?

Jaune wasn't sure if he was feeling elation or panic. They felt so similar these days. On the one hand, his parents would freak out, explaining to Glynda that Jaune was no huntsman, and that he didn't belong at Beacon. Then he would be free.

On the other hand…

His parents would freak out.

"…you may contact them yourself," Glynda finished.

Of course.

"You're not going to call them?" Jaune tried.

"Would they care if I did?"

More than she could imagine, Jaune wanted to say, but the words died in his throat, reduced to dust by the sheer force of Glynda's ominously dark expression.

"I thought not," said the teacher.

She pointed to the door on the left. "This is your room Mister Arc. Miss Rose…" Glynda nodded to the door on the right, "this is yours."

Jaune edged towards his, anxious to get out of the presence of this dangerous teacher who—for one reason or another—seemed to hate his very existence.

"Before you retire to your respective rooms, Mister Arc," said Glynda, ending his squirming with her intonation of his name. "I will have someone pick up your luggage tomorrow morning. Where will they find it?"

"The Shining Halo…" replied Jaune.

"Hey that's where me and Yang were staying too!" exclaimed Ruby.

Miss Goodwitch fixed him with—if it was even possible—an even more intense glare. Why him? Did she think he had followed Ruby to the convenience store from the hotel or something like that…?

No.

Not something like that.

That was _exactly_ what she believed.

Dammit. What the hell kind of impression had his family left on these people? Why was this his life?

Glynda turned back to Ruby. "I assume Miss Xiao Long will bring your luggage?"

"Yep. But I don't have much. I was only supposed to be in Vale for a day or two."

"I will recommend your father send your effects when I discuss your enrollment with him."

"Thanks," chirped Ruby, flashing the woman an ear-to-ear smile.

Glynda returned her appreciation with a not-entirely-unpleasant twitch at the corner of her lips. "Why don't you go check out your room," suggested Glynda. "I need to have a few words with Mister Arc here…in private."

Jaune's blood ran cold.

Ruby glanced at Jaune.

She could see it; he knew she could.

He knew she could see the silent cry for help in his eyes.

Ruby hesitated, which was nice of her. But then she offered Jaune a small smile.

It was a smile of condolences, pure and simple.

Oh well, what had he really been expecting her to do anyway?

All this wasn't her fault. It wasn't Ellie's either. It seemed most of Jaune's troubles sprung from actions his older family members had committed years before he had even been born.

Glynda's eyes were dry-ice as Ruby's door clicked shut.

"Mister Arc," began the terrifying woman. She removed her glasses, breathed on the lenses, and wiped them with a handkerchief, all the while holding intense eye contact. "I will have you know that most of Beacon's staff has returned from the break. We are all trained huntsmen and huntresses, and we are everywhere."

Jaune wasn't sure if he should attempt to meet her eyes or look anywhere but. Which action would convince the woman that he wasn't the deviant she clearly believed he was?

Besides, _"We are all trained huntsmen and huntresses and we are everywhere?"_ What did that even mean? What was she trying to say?

Jaune swallowed nervously.

Miss Goodwitch was looking at him. She hadn't even moved. She expected him to respond.

Jaune decided to go with honesty. "I'm not sure what you're talking about…" He watched her closely as he spoke, with no small amount of trepidation.

Huh.

Was that the right or the wrong answer? As far as Jaune could tell, she wasn't any angrier. That was a good sign. But her eyes were still latched onto him like heat seeking missiles. That was a less-than-good sign. "Allow me to blunt then, Mister Arc." Glynda took a step forward.

She was close.

Way…way too close.

Jaune would have been nervous for an entirely different reason if he wasn't already so deathly afraid.

After all, underneath all the death-glares and her questionable choice of weapons, Glynda was an attractive woman.

In a terrifying, only-a-masochist-would-dare, I-hope-you-have-good-health-insurance, good-lord-she-was-his-mom's-age, kind of way. Jaune shrunk back, afraid she might detect his…well… _too_ flattering thoughts.

Thank Oum she wasn't a mind-reader.

Still, she was close enough for Jaune to take note of the subtle gradient of green in her eyes. Her irises weren't all quite the same shade, were they?

"Ruby Rose is _fif-teen_." Glynda stressed, pointing towards the door Ruby had just disappeared behind. "Stay away from her room."

Jaune choked. "W-wait! What? You think I'm gonna…what!?"

"There's no need to pretend Mister Arc; your intentions toward Miss Rose were quite clear from the perspective of a competent adult—as platonic and kind as they may have seemed to a naïve girl."

"They were platonic and kind," cried Jaune.

"I won't have another Arc destroying a team because she takes it as a personal challenge to crush the heart of every man she meets."

She?

What the hell had Aunt Mel done?

"Listen, Miss Goodwitch," said Jaune, searching for the right words. Should he just come out and tell her? Right now? What would he say? Explain that he wasn't a huntsman and didn't belong at this school? Or was the dispelling the notion that he was trying to sleep with Ruby—a time traveling version of his darling Cece—a little more pressing? "Ruby just reminded me of my sister. And I'm nice to Ruby because she's a nice person. I'm not trying to take advantage of her or anything. I'm not that kind of guy."

"Really?" replied Glynda.

She didn't sound as if she believed him.

But she also didn't sound as if she was tossing out the possibility altogether either.

Jaune latched onto that glimmer of hope with all his might. How could he make things even better?

He had to say something smart. Something that would convince her that he wasn't the smarmy jerk-wad she believed him to be and that he wasn't trying to do anything… inappropriate to Ruby.

…

Ruby's age.

Sure, fifteen and seventeen wasn't a _huge_ age gap. But Ruby's personality reminded him of Cece's—and she was seven.

All he had to do was let Miss Goodwitch know that Ruby wasn't even on the menu.

Well, perhaps he should avoid phrases like "on the menu," but the point remained.

"Wait," said some part of his brain.

The smartest part—the part that was capable of rational thought. That shred of intellect begged Jaune to think, to consider.

Wasn't this good enough? Didn't he know better than to push his luck? To try for more?

He'd cast some doubt on Miss Goodwitch's less than flattering opinion of him. What more could he _realistically_ expect from this conversation?

Jaune stuffed that logical part of himself into the corner. Yes, _realistically_ , Jaune couldn't expect to change Miss Goodwitch's opinion about him in a single night—possibly not ever.

But Jaune wasn't a realist.

Jaune was an optimist.

He believed in his own ability to do better.

He trusted that life tended to work out.

It improved, not worsened.

At least, that's how his life had always worked—up until this point at least.

So, he spoke.

"Besides, Ruby's not really my type. I'm into _older_ women."

Jaune's heart stopped.

He watched Glynda's eyes widen and her lips part half an inch.

Why?

Why did he say it like that? Why did he put that weird emphasis on "older?"

All he had to say was, "Ruby's too young for me."

That was it.

So simple.

He could have just said that. Instead, he got fancy.

Now he was going to die.

In his defense, it had sounded less weird and flirty in his head. So, he had that in his defense. Would it do much to defend him against a woman who wields the wrath of god?

No.

No, it would do nothing.

"Ahem," Jaune cleared his throat.

Glynda was still close, too close. But she wasn't moving or speaking. Her expression was locked.

"What I meant by that," began Jaune, no idea where he was going with this. "I prefer girls—women?—no girls. Actually…women? I-I prefer women that are—"

Jaune stopped speaking when Glynda lurched backwards suddenly. Her pupils dilated. Her fists clenched. Her crop bent in one hand as if she might snap it in two.

Also, her cheeks were crimson. If she were a lesser woman, Jaune could have been mistaken as embarrassment. From Glynda…well it could only be pure unadulterated rage, couldn't it?

"You Arcs are all the same!" she hissed. "It's all smile and charm and promises till you get what you want!"

Jaune blinked.

W-what had his family done to Miss Goodwitch?

"Miss—"

"Stop," Glynda cut him off. "I can't take one more lie."

"But I haven't lie—" Jaune went quiet the instant Glynda jabbed her crop at him, terrified he would be sent flying down the hall. Fortunately, it seemed she was just using it as an extension of her hand, not as a weapon.

"I do not particularly care, whether you _currently_ harbor any interest in Ruby. We both know how fickle the Arc heart is, do we not?"

Did they really?

"There are cameras in this school, Mister Arc," interrupted Glynda. "Someone is always watching. _I_ am always watching. Do not forget that."

Glynda began to turn away, but paused, giving Ruby's door a long look.

Jaune wondered if she was considering setting up camp in the hall, guarding Ruby for the rest of the night.

Jaune hoped she didn't. Not because he wanted to sneak into Ruby's room and have his way with her—or whatever it was that Glynda suspected of him—but because he had a feeling a Glynda without sleep was an altogether different beast.

Plus, no doubt, the woman would blame him for her lack of rest.

Irate towards the world at large and furious towards him in specific?

Goddamn, would that be a mess.

Fortunately, Glynda, after fixing him with one last threatening glare, spun on her heels and stalked away.

Jaune watched the woman walk away. He wasn't sure how to feel. Fixated by the way her hips swayed? Terrified by the force with which she took every step? Entranced by the slender nape beneath her fixed hair? Intimidated by the way her—

Jaune nearly strained his neck with the speed at which he turned away.

She had looked back. He hadn't been expecting her to look back.

He fumbled with his keycard as Glynda's footsteps receded.

It was personal.

Glynda didn't just think Arcs were a menace.

His family had done something to her.

Something horrible.

Jaune cursed when he dropped his keycard. His fingers were twitching.

He picked up the card and managed to unlock the door.

So, to sum things up, being an Arc was the absolute worse and…

Beacon had cameras.

Cameras…?

Were they…in the halls? The dorms? The _bathrooms_?

Jaune groaned.

He could hardly believe that there had been a time when he _wanted_ to attend this school.

###

Ruby's control slipped the moment the door shut behind her.

She had managed to maintain her composure in the hall.

She was quiet. She was calm. She walked at a normal pace.

She hadn't shown Jaune or Miss Goodwitch why her dad and Yang never let her eat _that_ many cookies.

She let go the moment she was alone.

Cloak fluttering behind her, the girl explored every inch of the room in a few seconds, zipping from bed to bed, wall to wall. She took off her boots—since she was definitely going to jump on the beds at some point—and loosened some of her straps—since she was getting comfortable, right?

The bathroom was nice—at least from what she'd seen in the three seconds she'd spent inside it.

The beds were soft—although it was hard to say how good they were for sleeping since she'd mostly just rolled back and forth along each of them for a few seconds.

Everything looked so good.

Except…

Except for those drapes.

Those were too long.

Ruby instinctively reach behind her, hand searching for her baby.

Her hand met air.

Right.

Miss Goodwitch confiscated Crescent Rose when they first arrived at Beacon.

On their way to the dorms the scary teacher had explained that their weapons would be stored in lockers until initiation. They would be given their access codes to their lockers the day of.

Ruby didn't like that. Separated from her darling for two nights and a day?

What if she was attacked by a Grimm?

Or what if she needed to "modify" her room?

What if she just wanted to cuddle?

The point was she needed her fifty-caliber sniper rifle scythe back.

Unfortunately, she didn't know where these lockers were, nor her combination. Maybe she could plead her case in the morning?

Ruby leapt from across the room, from furthest bed to furthest bed—clearing the two in the middle.

She laughed as she soared through the air.

How did she feel?

How could she put it into words?

She was happy about her early acceptance into Beacon.

It felt…right. While her friends were going to movies and dating and generally enjoying their teenage lives, she had been training and demanding extra lessons from Uncle Qrow.

The headmaster of Beacon acknowledging her hard work was… well, it was nothing short of amazing.

It validated all those late nights spent falling flat on her face and butt, over and over. It gave it all a sense of purpose that had been absent before.

Plus, she had a new friend.

Jaune seemed nice, really nice.

Maybe he was a little too…fearless. Saying and doing the things he said and did to Miss Goodwitch seemed a lot like poking a sleeping Ursa.

Only, Ursa were clearly a lot less dangerous.

Still, as much as he seemed to hate authority, he hadn't shown any of that hostility towards her.

Maybe he just didn't like teachers.

Whatever, a friend was a friend. And a new one was another reason for her to be happy.

And, finally, in addition to all those reasons to be happy, there was the way her body was humming and her limbs were vibrating.

Twenty-three chocolate-chip cookies. It would have been twenty-four had Jaune not spiked one. She hadn't approved of that. Even if he had done it to send their captors a message. The only time to waste a cookie was in times of life or death peril.

Still. Twenty-three cookies. And they were large ones too.

Mm.

Ruby felt as if…

She felt as if she could be in two separate places at once.

If she were to activate her semblance at that very moment, and travel from one side of the room to the other over and over…

Would, eventually, she move so fast that two Ruby's would exist? One on either side of the room?

Sure, one would just be an after-image—but would she be able to wave to it? And then make it wave back too?

These were the sorts of questions she asked herself when her brain was addled by sweets.

Fortunately, Ruby had enough presence of mind to realize that, if she did achieve such ridiculous speeds, indoors no-less, she'd likely destroy…a significant portion of the school.

So, despite her overwhelming desire to move fast—faster than ever before, she settled for leaping from the rightmost bed to the leftmost and back again several times.

Wait.

Wasn't she forgetting something?

Yang.

Ruby fished her scroll from her pocket.

Nine missed calls and eighteen unread text messages.

Why'd she have to set her scroll to silent?

Ruby dropped to her butt—still bursting with energy—but not quite as excited. Ugh, this was going to be awkward. Where should she even start?

Fortunately, the missed calls and messages were concentrated in the last hour. Which meant Yang hadn't been worried for _too_ long.

Well, she'd been missing for an hour, a few minutes more wouldn't hurt. Ruby just needed to take a moment to compose herself, get her story straight, that sort of thing.

Hmm…

She'd start by explaining—

Ruby's thoughts were interrupted by her sister's face suddenly taking up her scroll's screen. Yang's calling picture was of her making a kissy face directly into the camera. Ruby had never particularly liked the image—but Yang kept changing it back every time Ruby tried to change it.

Oh well. It wasn't like her plan would have done much once the call actually started—it was more about mustering the courage to make the call.

Working herself up, Ruby swiped right.

"Ruby!" Yang exploded, as per usual. "Thank goodness! Where are you? I've been trying to reach you for an hour! I was about to call the police!"

Ruby could see the distress on her sister's face, the tinge of red in her eyes—probably anger at herself for taking her eye off Ruby.

It made her heart sink.

There was no one in the world more important to her than Yang. She hated to see her sad, worried, or upset.

She hated being the cause of it even more.

"Hey Yang," Ruby waved meekly.

"Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm fine," said Ruby quickly. "Some stuff happened and, uh, I'm at Beacon."

"Beacon? Why are you at Beacon?" asked Yang.

When Ruby hemmed and hawed Yang's eyes narrowed.

"What stuff?" she asked with a bit more force.

Sighing, Ruby explained.

She spoke briefly of her conversation with Jaune in the dust shop. She spent much more time on her battle against Roman's goons. She spent a lot of time describing the angry force of nature named Miss Goodwitch. She touched on Ozpin a bit, although she wasn't sure what to say about the man. He had seemed like the wise, kind, and thoughtful type—but reserved, very reserved. And he'd offered her a spot at Beacon—so he must have been a pretty good person.

She spent the most time talking about her new friend, Jaune, though.

How could she not?

He was there for the whole story. He was nice. He might have been almost as socially awkward as her. Plus, he was a super-strong huntsman. Which was awesome.

When Ruby finished. Yang exploded.

First were a couple obligatory questions to make sure Ruby was alright.

To which, Ruby replied, "I'm fine Yang, really. The goons from the store didn't even scratch me."

Her motherly duties fulfilled, Yang then moved on to her sisterly ones. "I let you out of my sight for one second. Just one. And you go and pick a fight with criminals, get accepted into Beacon early, _and_ you get a boyfriend?"

"He's not my _boyfriend_ , Yang," Ruby whined.

"Not yet you mean?" said Yang, in full big sister-torture "You mispronounced my name Ruby;, it's not Yang, it's Yang-yet."

"What now?" replied Ruby with a hint of exasperation. She was one-hundred-fifty-percent certain this was going to end in joke that would make her roll her eyes so hard she'd knock herself out.

"Here, I'll use it in a sentence for you; 'he's not my boyfriend, Yang…yet.'"

It was even worse than she expected. She took a moment to stop cringing before she replied. "I'm not interested in that kind of thing Yang, you know that."

"And you're fifteen," affirmed Yang. "You don't have to be. Just let me know when you start your _Ruby-ellious_ phase. I don't want you to start dating a bone-head just to keep dad on his toes."

"That's not something _I_ would ever do Yang," said Ruby. She sighed. Ruby-ellious? That pun… well it wasn't the worst.

"You sure? Cause I've got pointers."

Ruby tried to act put off by Yang's levity, but she couldn't help but smile.

Yang leaned towards the camera, as if that would somehow bring her close enough to wrap an arm around Ruby's shoulders, despite the miles between them.

All the motion accomplished was giving Ruby an eyeful of cleavage, and a bit more than that too.

"Listen Ruby, I tease you about it, but you really are just fifteen. There's no rush and it's perfectly normal to not have any interest yet. I'm sure you'll find that special someone when you're..."

Ruby's mind drifted as Yang continued. She knew her sister was offering her advice out of kindness. Trying to encourage her, make her feel better.

The problem was, Yang didn't understand. She didn't understand that there was nothing to cheer Ruby up over or encourage her about. Ruby's lack of interest in romance didn't bother her. Why would it? The inability to have something only bothered people who wanted it. One day, in the distant future, Ruby imagined she might want kids—so it might become an issue then, but it certainly wasn't one right now.

Even so, when Yang went out of her way to offer her advice about boys and romance Ruby still usually listened—because it was one of the many ways Yang showed her love.

And Ruby wanted to listen now. She really did.

But Ruby's attention span was small. It always had been.

And it was infinitely smaller when she was hopped up on sugar.

She wanted to consider what Yang was saying and respond to prove she was listening.

But her brain had other ideas. Well, perhaps _ideas_ was too generous a term. _Tangents_ probably fit better.

It wasn't entirely Ruby's fault, after all...

Did Yang have to sleep without a bra?

Sure, Ruby was used to it. Still didn't mean she was a fan of all the 'nip-slips' Yang was constantly laughing off.

Even now, the angle at which Yang's camera was positioned was a little _too_ flattering.

Ruby wondered if her sister would continue to go braless at night once she was on a team.

What if Yang was bunked with boys?

Better question…

What if _Ruby_ was bunked with boys?

Ruby flushed a little imagining it. She wasn't like Yang or anything. She wore clothes properly, the way they were meant to be worn—to cover the important bits and the parts attached to the important bits too.

And she certainly didn't care what boys thought of her appearance like Yang did. In fact, boys didn't really play a major role in her behavior, choices, or thoughts at all.

But she wasn't sure she could continue ignoring the differences between her and her male acquaintances.

Not if her dad was to be believed. He was always saying stuff like...

"Teenage boys are monsters, Ruby."

"They're worse than Grimm, Ruby."

"Don't worry Ruby, I'll help you pick out the winners; just bring them home to me and I'll make them disappear—by _them_ I mean the bad ones, of course. Did it sound like I meant every single last one of them? Haha, uh, no – that might be what it sounded like, but that's definitely not what I meant."

Now, Ruby _suspected_ that most of that was just her dad being her dad.

He wanted to protect her from everything that could _possibly_ hurt her.

Fear.

Grimm.

The cold.

If it had the potential to make Ruby so much as uncomfortable, then Tai Xiao Long was ready to fight, destroy, and bury it.

That made him an unreliable source when it came to teenage boys.

Fortunately, Ruby had Yang.

So, the girl asked her older sister how many of their father's warnings were true.

Were teenage boys really Grimm given human form?

Her sister had laughed, explaining it as a scary story designed to keep her on the straight and narrow.

Ruby had been relieved to hear that.

But then Yang's eyes had narrowed. "But there are definitely some wolves out there – nothing to be worried about, unless you're a lamb." She looked her sister up and down critically.

The implication was clear.

Ruby had whined, telling Yang not to call her a lamb, and hit Yang's back ineffectively while the older girl cackled.

No, Ruby was no lamb. She was a warrior, a hero, like her mother was before her.

Still...

No one wanted to run into a wolf.

She was happy she hadn't. Not that she wouldn't be able to handle it, or anything! Just...she was glad she'd never been forced to handle it.

At Signal her male friends had all been nerds, united by a single passion for mecha-shifting weapons! No one there was interested in cheating on their 'baby' with someone else in the group! Weapons talked, word got around. Crescent Rose would have found out.

Needless to say, no wolves among those friends.

And Jaune...

Well, Jaune was too nice to be a wolf.

"…okay Ruby?"

The closing line of Yang's speech forced Ruby back into reality.

"okay...?" replied Ruby, not certain what she was agreeing to.

"You weren't listening, were you?" asked Yang.

"O-of course, I was," stammered Ruby.

"No, you weren't. Not at all." Yang squinted at her. "How many cookies have you eaten?"

"A normal amount for a growing girl," Ruby denied immediately, hands raised defensively, as if she were about to fight.

"And how many would that be?" prodded Yang.

Ruby panicked, lying wasn't one of her most...adept skills.

Fortunately, the flashing battery indicator at the top of her screen gave her ample reason to change the subject.

"Listen, Yang. My scroll is about to die and I don't have my charger. There's a couple of things I have to tell you before that happens. Miss Goodwitch says Jaune and I can't leave here until initiation. She also said you can take the first bullhead tomorrow morning if you want to come early too."

"Too lonely without me?" asked Yang, smiling smuly.

"It's only a day," sighed Ruby, rolling her eyes – again.

"I'm talking about, right now," continued Yang, still smirking. "Can you even sleep by yourself when you're away from home?"

Ruby considered that. Yang had a point; she didn't particularly like being away from her family—not at night. She didn't like sleeping over at friends' houses.

She didn't need to be in the same bed or room as her family; she just liked to keep them close. To know where they were. To know they were still breathing.

Ruby knew she would have to get over her compulsive desire to keep her loved ones in sight eventually.

She couldn't be a huntress if she couldn't leave her family behind and concentrate on her mission. Heck, she couldn't even attend school to become a huntress if she couldn't leave her family behind.

She just…didn't realize she'd have to do it so soon.

Wait.

She didn't.

Yang was going to be here too. In the same year. They could even be partners!

The very thought made Ruby smile.

Yang picked up on her mood, as her own grin transformed from mocking with a mix of worry, to pure relief. "I take it you'll be okay tonight Ruby?"

"Of course," said Ruby. "I've got Jaune after all."

Yang's smile vanished. "You mean, in the room with you?"

"No," replied Ruby. "He's in the room next to mine."

"You mean you two aren't on opposite sides of the school!?"

Ah. Another Yang-explosion. If Ruby had a cookie for every time these happened…

She'd never come down from her high.

"No, why would we be?"

"You said your rooms are next to each other—is there a door connecting them!?" questioned Yang.

"T-there's a hall…?" answered Ruby.

What had Yang so upset all of a sudden?

A message box flashed across her scroll. Her battery was at one percent.

"Listen Yang, my scroll is dying; maybe Jaune has a charger!"

Yang's eyes were wide with panic. "Ruby, don—"

The screen went dark.

Ruby stared at her blank scroll for a moment.

What Yang had been about to say? Could have been anything really. She'd just have to tell her in the morning. For now…

She was here, at Beacon.

She felt so giddy she was shaking.

What was she going to do with herself?

###

The room was nice.

A bit on the tight side for its usual number occupants.

But Jaune was one of eight.

Cramped quarters were nothing new, although, as the only boy in the brood, he often got a bit more space than his sisters with hotel rooms, sleeping arrangements, and the like.

There wasn't much that could be done when they were piling into a van though.

No, the room wasn't terrible. Although, it'd benefit from some bunk beds.

This side-by-side deal kind of took over the entire space.

But whatever…

It wasn't too bad.

Jaune took a hot shower first, which was nice. He had no soap, nor a wash cloth but at least he had a towel. That was something.

A few leaves fell out of his hair as he stood beneath the falling water. Jaune was confused about their presence—until he remembered the bush that had likely prevented him from breaking his neck.

He didn't have any other clothes so he slipped into boxers and a T-shirt, opting to throw his pants and hoodie on the bed nearest to the bathroom.

Jaune sat on the same bed.

He was safe—well, as safe as he could be with a woman like Miss Goodwitch out for his blood.

He was clean—well, as clean as one could get without soap.

And he was alone—well, as alone as one could be in a room that may be covered in hidden cameras.

The point was, there was nothing left to do. And Jaune was alone.

Alone with his thoughts.

Oh boy.

He was in Beacon.

Jaune pinched his skin, more a dramatic act than an actual attempt to wake himself up.

He knew he wasn't sleeping.

But he wished he was.

Not just because his life would be a lot simpler if that turned out to be the truth—but because then, maybe, he could will an instrument to appear.

Guitar, piano, ukulele—anything.

He knew he was feeling...a lot.

But he couldn't sort any of it out without some music.

His fingers curled instinctively, as if the neck of his guitar was in hand.

What would he play if he had an instrument?

He imagined strumming a few cords with his right.

Would he play something somber, to suit his mood? Although, that begged the question, was he sad, or was he just a little fed up?

Or, perhaps, he'd play something peppy. He was fairly sure he wasn't happy with his predicament—but at least it could cheer him up, right? Although—what if he was happy? What if he just couldn't tell?

Ugh, this was why he needed an instrument at times like this.

How was he supposed to understand the thoughts floating in his head or the feelings swimming through his heart without the ability to put said emotions into song?

When it was quiet…

When it was boring…

When he was alone…

He needed something that would make his hands feel less empty. And his actions feel less pointless.

Well…

At least he wasn't entirely bereft of all music.

Jaune withdrew his scroll. Since he couldn't play, listening to his favorites was the next best thing. He'd planned to listen to music for a good chunk of the day—the train ride into Vale—somehow, he'd wound up listening to Port drone on for hours about his masculinity, humility, and handsomeness.

Peter Port was not a terrible person—far from it. He was clearly kind, courageous, and protective of the weak.

But, still, the man was best served in small doses.

Jaune clicked the power button on the side of the scroll. A few seconds later a large and—most importantly—empty battery icon flashed across the screen.

His charger?

Back in his hotel room.

Fantastic.

Could this night get any better?

Jaune jumped at the sudden knock on his door. It was light, rapid, and without warning.

"Who is it?" he called out, although he already knew the answer. He recognized a little girl's knock when he heard one.

"It's Ruby."

"Hold on a second," said Jaune, snatching up his pants.

He reached for the door after making sure his fly was up.

He didn't open the door all the way. That might seem too… welcoming.

He'd hate to seem too welcoming.

After all…

Glynda was always watching.

Jaune peeked through the crevice. Ruby's hands were behind he back, her eyes were focused on her own feet, which were covered only by her dark stockings. The myriad of straps and buckles that lined Ruby's outfit had been loosened—although her clothes still fit the same, leading Jaune to wonder what they were all for.

"Hey Ruby, what's up?"

Ruby lifted her eyes. "Hey Jaune, I'm not, um. I'm not Disturbing you, am I?"

Damn it. She looked so tentative and hesitant. Cece was the same way around people she wasn't entirely comfortable with. Jaune opened his door the rest of the way, no doubt multiplying his "welcoming factor" by five.

"Actually, I was having a big party, only the cool kids are invited and—oof!" Jaune staggered suddenly, as if he had just been shoved. He closed his door behind him. "Well…looks like they kicked me out."

Ruby laughed.

Oum, she had one of _those_ smiles. The kind that made the rest of the world seem brighter.

Jaune could not keep himself from grinning along with her. "So, what's up."

"Well," began Ruby, covering her mouth and working out her last few chuckles. "My scroll just died, and I was wondering if you had a charger?"

"I wish, my scroll's dead too."

"Oh," said Ruby.

It seemed that was all she had to say on the matter, but she did not return to her room. She, simply resumed staring at her wiggling toes and fidgeting.

Jaune watched her for a few long minutes before, finally, asking. "Is there something else you want to ask me Ruby?"

Ruby looked up again. "Well, I'm too excited to sleep. And I'm not really tired anyway. So, I was thinking maybe…you might want to go exploring with me?"

Exploring?

Jaune glanced to his left, down the long open hall. By "exploring," did Ruby mean go wandering around this massive dark school—and risk running into an angry Glynda?

Surely that couldn't be what Ruby was suggesting, could it?

"Couldn't we get in trouble?" said Jaune.

"We're students here now, Jaune. Why would we get in trouble?"

"For existing," muttered Jaune.

"What?" question Ruby.

"Nothing." Jaune cleared his throat. "I don't know if it's a good idea to go exploring." He glanced at the ceiling above them. He didn't _see_ any cameras, but that didn't mean they weren't there. What if they were cleverly hidden? Like inside the sprinklers? Or…

Jaune's eyes flitted to the door behind Ruby.

Door knobs!

What if every knob was a camera? They were all fitted with electronic locks—how much more work would it be to add a few additional components?

Jaune imagined how he'd look on those knob cameras, wandering around with Ruby. It would probably look an awful lot like him luring her to some secluded spot. Then Glynda would appear, then she'd murder him. Then they'd send his corpse home in an urn with a tag reading, _"The reason this is so heavy is because we didn't burn the body. Glynda just compressed him. You've got all of it. Love, Ozpin. P.S.: Thank Oum for safety wavers_ _ **amiright**_ _? Snrkt, Ozzy out."_

Jaune wasn't sure if he was entirely mischaracterizing Beacon's headmaster or was dead on. How terrifying was that?

"Well…if you don't think it's a good idea…" said Ruby, visibly deflating.

"I didn't say it was a bad idea!" said Jaune hurriedly.

Ruby perked a bit.

"I just think it's…risky."

"Oh." Ruby still looked disappointed. But at least she didn't look defeated.

"We can explore in the morning, as much as you want, I promise." At least then it would be daytime. Glynda would, hopefully, have other stuff to do. And Ruby's older sister would be around too. It'd be an all-around less stressful situation.

"Okay," said Ruby.

Jaune reached behind him, for his door's handle.

Locked.

His keycard?

Inside.

Damn it.

Between the clicking noise and Jaune's sudden pallor Ruby guessed what was wrong immediately.

"Did you lock yourself out?"

Jaune considered pretending that he hadn't. He could wait for Ruby to return to her room and then he could sleep out here. But Jaune had a feeling that, if he claimed to have his keycard, Ruby would stay out here and watch him until he produced it.

"Yeah…"

Ruby jerked a thumb back towards her room. "W-well I-I've got four beds."

While she was making the offer, Ruby maintained eye contact with him. Immediately afterwards her eyes became reacquainted with her feet, now squirming faster than ever.

Was she blushing?

No.

That was Jaune's imagination. It had to be.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

Being caught by Glynda wandering around campus with Ruby?

Or…

Being caught on camera disappearing into Ruby's room?

It wasn't a difficult decision.

"You know what? Let's explore."

Ruby lit up like a…well…like a beacon.

"Really?" she cheered.

"It's our first night here right?" asked Jaune. "We can sleep when we're dead." Plus, if he was lucky, it'd give him a chance to tell Ruby how little he belonged here. Making sure he didn't hurt Ruby when he got the hell out of here was important. He'd told her they could be friends. There was no reason that couldn't still be true—even if Jaune wasn't a huntsman.

Although, it'd be funny if Ruby turned out to be a hunter-friends only kind of girl—a total elitist. From what he'd seen of her there was no chance of that. But it was still an amusing thought.

"Where should we go first?" asked Jaune, glancing to his left and right. Halls extended in either direction.

He hadn't paid much attention on their way here, he was in too much of a daze.

Ruby bounced up and down. "Let's look for cookies!"

"More cookies?" asked Jaune, with a touch of incredulity.

"Hey, I'm a growing girl! I need my cookies!"

Jaune laughed at Ruby's fierce pout. It was too familiar. "Would your mother agree?"

Ruby's pout slipped. Her mouth opened and closed once before she replied. "She would have let me have them."

Her voice was quiet, her energy absent, the glimmer gone.

So, the word 'mother' was a taboo. Would have been great to know earlier, still good to know now.

"Alright, cookie monster." Jaune turned and began walking, motioning for Ruby to follow, "let's see if we can find you some sweets."

Ruby's somber expression vanished as fast as it appeared. She was beside Jaune in an instant, beaming up at him. "Let's find these lockers too! I want my baby back!"

"Who's your baby?" question Jaune, on reflex mostly.

Ruby took a deep breath before diving into her thorough explanation.

He never should have asked.

###

Jaune wound up enjoying he and Ruby's little adventure more than he had expected. They didn't accomplish either of their goals, but they had fun trying.

They found the cafeteria but the kitchen was locked up for the night. There were some vending machines, but Jaune's wallet was locked in his room.

Ruby only had a twenty.

They'd tried shaking the machine, attempting to dislodge a precariously hanging bag of candy. But that only succeeded in nearly knocking over the machine.

They had righted it, of course, but it had come down with a thunderous crash. They did not so much slink away as they did run.

Ruby was faster, of course.

Their search for the lockers was even less successful than their quest for cookies. They hadn't explored the entire school or anything—but it was possible they'd have to go outside to get to them.

Since neither of them were wearing shoes—and Jaune couldn't retrieve his shoes even if he wanted to they gave up on that.

Still, there was more to see. All of the doors in the student living quarters were closed and locked but the classrooms weren't. There wasn't much to see in them.

Although, one had an occupant.

Jaune and Ruby watched the wiry green-haired man for a moment. He stood at attention, thermos in hand, staring out a window. His foot tapped rapidly, almost unnaturally fast.

He was humming something.

It sounded familiar.

Where had Jaune heard that melody before?

Ruby yanked him back into the hall after a minute of observing the teacher. She held a finger to her lips. Jaune nodded. The two padded away.

Eventually they found themselves at the library. Surprisingly, the doors weren't locked. It was dark inside—but not that dark—there were plenty of windows, the moonlight bathed the interior in pale light.

Jaune observed the numerous shelves, laden with books.

It was an impressive collection. Ellie would love it.

Not so much for reading purposes...

More like organization.

Ellie would have had a field day organizing this place. Jaune imagined her order him to move hundreds of boxes full of books, hellbent on increasing the efficiency of the visitor's experience.

He smiled.

"Jaune!" Ruby whisper-shouted.

Jaune returned his attention to his energetic friend.

She zipped from the librarian counter over to him, plastic wrappers crinkling in her hands. "They've got mints!"

Jaune broke into a grin as he stared at the pile of transparently wrapped red and white. "So, we set out for cookies and we found library mints. Based off that, how'd we do on the mission?"

"Solid D plus," said Ruby, emptying the mints into her pocket. "But isn't that better than a zero?"

"I don't know. I think if I got a zero my parents would ask me what's wrong. If I got a D... they'd just start the trial right then."

"Any chance you'd be found innocent?" asked Ruby.

"In order from least important to most, it depends on whether Crystal or Alana have done something way stupider recently, if Ellie's on my side, and how angry my mom really is."

"So, if your mom's really angry?" asked Ruby.

Damn, he'd forgotten moms were supposed to be off limits. Jaune licked his lips. "I'm a goner."

Ruby clapped, momentarily dispelling the silence that surrounded them. "Okay! Since Misses Jaune's Mom won't accept a D, we keep looking! Who knows, there might be better treats somewhere in here!"

"In the library...?" began Jaune. He trailed off when he realized Ruby had already vanished, a few rose petals left in her stead. "Careful," Jaune called after her. It was more habit than anything else. Ruby was a huntress and had been using her semblance for years. She didn't need him to remind her to be careful about her movements because it was dark.

She was a huntress, far more capable than he.

She wasn't Cece. She was older. She was more mature. She was—

Jaune's thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash, followed by a clang. The noise originated from a distant corner of the library.

"Ruby?" he called out as loud as he dared. When he didn't receive an answer, he took off in that direction.

Of course, he tripped.

The fall nearly knocked the wind out of him. He was still good though. He could breathe. He pushed himself to his feet and kept moving. "Ruby?" he called again.

"Oh...I'm over here."

Jaune slowed when he heard her voice, taking a moment to catch his breath. Ruby didn't sound as if she was in any major pain. She'd probably just tripped, as he had—only moving seven or eight times faster than him.

And sounding as if she'd come out on top of the encounter.

Was that the difference between a huntsman and a civilian?

Best not to think about it too hard.

Jaune passed a shelf and caught sight of Ruby. She was rubbing her forehead and muttering to herself. "Are you okay?"

Ruby nodded. "Yeah, just slipped. Someone left all these books lying on the ground."

Jaune followed Ruby's pointed finger. Sure, enough twenty or so books were spread out next to wooden table.

Jaune glanced around the area. It was sort of like a mini student lounge. There was the low wooden table, a couch, two beanbag seats, and a couple of chairs. There was also, a standing lamp. Jaune reached for the lamp.

He and Ruby blinked at each other a few times as their eyes adjusted.

It took three blinks for Jaune to notice the large red mark across Ruby's forehead. He winced. "Did you hit your head?"

Ruby's hand flew to her forehead. "No, what makes you say that?"

Jaune wasn't sure he'd ever seen a person deliver such a benign menial lie with such a guilty expression. "Oh, okay. I trust you."

"Okay I did!" The words burst out of Ruby with the relief and immediacy of a long-held secret.

Jaune suppressed his laughter, less Ruby think he was laughing because she fell. It was good she seemed to be alright though. He glanced down at the books that were spread out on the floor. He noticed they came in two varieties thicker, encyclopedic looking books, labeled _Beacon Records_ , followed by two years. Then there were some thinner books, still hard-cover. Those were labeled _Beacon yearbook_ followed by two years.

Looked like someone had been reminiscing. Whoever they were, they were lucky Ellie wasn't the librarian here. The sentence for leaving books on the floor under her iron fist would likely be a public flogging.

Jaune picked up one of the older looking yearbooks. He assumed the record books would be on the boring side.

"What is it?" asked Ruby.

"Yearbook," replied Jaune, sitting down on the couch.

"For Beacon!?" shouted Ruby. In a quarter-second Ruby went from hiding her forehead to practically crushing Jaune's cheek with her own. "I wanna see!"

"I can't really open the book with your leg right there."

Ruby glanced down at her knee, resting on his thigh. She launched herself backwards, taking advantage of the full length of the couch. "Sorry!"

Jaune cocked an eye brow at the impressive back pedal. "You're not going to be able to see it from over there."

"Oh, right," said Ruby. She scooted closer.

Jaune shook his head and grinned. She really was like Cece. That girl had no in-between. Not naturally at least. It was always all-in or all-out.

Jaune cracked open the yearbook, placing it on the table between he and Ruby. He was careful to avoid the ring, of what appeared to be, coffee. Whoever had been getting lost in the past hadn't used a coaster.

Another flog-able offense.

Jaune and Ruby found themselves laughing immediately. What were these haircuts? They were horrendous! They weren't just "a different style." Who would go out of their way to make their hair look this terrible? It was unbelievable.

The first-years were the worst offenders. So much wasted hair gel and spray...

It got better in the later years, especially third and fourth. The haircuts had probably gotten more practical the more time they spent in the field.

So, he and Ruby went back to the first-year section. Ruby found a hair-cut that amused her more than anything. A boy with a literal scythe atop his head and massive red glasses.

Jaune laughed along with her.

He stopped laughing when he read the names beneath two very familiar looking first years. Both were blonde. Both had no nonsense hair-cuts.

Mel and Mathias Arc.

Ruby noticed he had stopped laughing and was instead staring intently. She wiped some tears from her eyes as she followed his gaze.

"Whoa! Is that your mom and dad?"

Jaune was broken from his reverie by the question. "Huh? Um no. Well, that's my dad. That's my aunt."

"Oh! That makes sense. Ha. So, they were in the same year together? Like me and Yang!"

Jaune nodded, not really paying attention, too busy trying to find their team's page.

Jaune didn't recognize either of the two boys on their team. Nor did he recognize their names. Why hadn't his dad or aunt ever mentioned them?

The boys weren't smiling. Not in any of the team pics. And not in their profile pics either. Aunt Mel and dad were smiling. But not normal smiles. They were smiling like they thought they were better at taking pictures—then a camera.

His father and Aunt had been partners, which was probably for the best all things considered.

Jaune looked on the right page, where other teams and people had the opportunity to write a message. He flipped the page. He flipped a few more pages. There were seven pages of messages for team MAIM. Seven pages. Other teams barely had half-a-page.

One message in particular caught Jaune's eye.

 _"You. All. Are. The. Worst. Team. Ever. I'm becoming an accountant. Screw all of you."- Allistar._

Jaune flipped back a few pages. Was that the name of...?

Yep, one of their teammates.

Holy crap.

"Wow, looks like your dad had...an interesting team," said Ruby.

Jaune sighed, leaning back on the couch. "I don't want to see anymore." He pushed the book towards Ruby. "Tell me if you find anything interesting."

Ruby picked up the book. Tucking her, feet beneath her she got comfortable as she flipped through the book. "What's interesting?"

"I don't know. But it has to be a ten." Jaune closed his eyes. When he got out of here. He was going to call his dad and he was going to have _long_ talk with him about this crap.

A _long_ talk.

Jaune was beginning to drift off when Ruby nudged his leg with a toe.

Jaune opened his eyes, albeit slowly. "What is it?"

"Well," began Ruby. "You said to tell you if I found a ten on the interesting scale..."

"Yeah?"

"And it turns out Miss Goodwitch was a fourth year."

Jaune was wide awake now. "Really? Let me see." He leaned towards the girl.

Ruby clutched the yearbook to her chest. "I wasn't going to wake you up for that. I figured that was a nine, maybe just an eight."

What the hell kind of scale was she using?

Young Glynda Goodwitch? That was an eleven or a seventeen—on a strictly one to ten scale, of course.

Of course, Ruby's reasons for appreciating the picture might not be _quite_ the same as his. Some of them would be the same, sure. But, probably not all of them.

"Okay," said Jaune. "So, what's the ten?"

Ruby, stared at him for a long moment, building the tension. "Are you sure you're ready?"

Jaune sat up and scooted closer, perhaps a little too close—but he wanted to see it. "Ready."

Ruby flipped the book.

It was a giant spread photo, taking up two pages. At the top of the photo was the title _"The last 'king' and 'queen' of Beacon."_ Jaune stared at the photo for a good three minutes before he spoke.

"What...the...f..."

"...udge-muffins," Ruby finished for him.

Spread out, in all its high-resolution grandeur was Glynda Goodwitch, decked out in full dance regalia. She was breath takingly beautiful. She still had a strict expression but it was offset by her obvious youth. A gleaming tiara sat upon her head.

And then there was Jaune's father, the king's crown in hand. His father and Miss Goodwitch had been king and queen at a dance? That fact alone was mind boggling.

Then there were the other details of the photo. Like the fact that Glynda was snarling, crop in hand. Or that Matthias was floating ten feet in the air, smirking. Or the craters and broken tables that littered the scene. Or the mass panic evident in the student body as they fled towards the exits. Or Aunt Mel, in the background with an electric guitar in hand, posed like a rockstar.

Jaune knew for a fact his Aunt couldn't play a lick of music. But given the massive speakers to her left and right—that probably hadn't stopped her.

Jaune made an exaggerated crying noise, to help mask the actual tears forming. He lowered his head to Ruby's shoulder. Ruby petted his head sympathetically.

"Hey, if it helps any, my mom and dad went to Beacon too, and their team was pretty dysfunctional." Jaune looked up at Ruby with watery eyes.

She smiled at him gently.

"Were they this bad?" he asked hopefully.

Ruby's head turned the opposite direction so fast she might have used her semblance.

"Nothing is this bad."

Jaune returned his head to her shoulder.

Glynda hated Arcs.

So did Jaune.

 **Hey peeps,**

 **Just so you know.**

 **I've got some help, on some of these fics. Not all of them, but some. So that's great.**

 **It means; my schedule is finally coming together. Guitar Huntsman, The Shield of Vale, and one other large chapter fic will switch off on Thursdays.**

 **Yes, Thursdays, not Wednesdays. I typically wrap up chapters on Wednesday. That's why I made posting them on Wednesdays my deadline. I needed to add another day so I can get some feedback and edits before I post.**

 **Speaking of which, next Thursday I'll be uploading that new fic of which I speak. It will be a total adventure AU fic. It will be more serious than this one—but way less dark than The Shield of Vale. I think people who like this fic will probably like it.**

 **It will center on Jaune.**

 **Title tbaTBA.**

 **Next chapter of Guitar Huntsman: November 16** **th** **(That's right, now that I've got a schedule I'm putting official dates on these things. It's a miracle.)**

 **-Vronsurd**

 ** _And just a quick mention; I (Karismatickoala) am currently trying my hand at being Vronsurd's beta, for this fic. Hopefully I'll manage to net all the little mistakes and make reading easier for you guys ^_^_**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hola, so I guess I should address... a couple of things. Ugh. This is gonna be a long author's note.**

 **First, I've gotten a number of questions about why I chose to use "Oum" in this fic. To my chagrin, I have no good reason—even though I still don't buy into the idea that RWBY has established a major religion.**

 **Those who say the belief system of the common man orientates around the story of the brothers... kind of miss the point of a religion.**

 **The brothers story is just a reworking of the Abrahamic creation story, with some droplets of Native American beliefs. Religion is the other 99% of your belief system. The prophecies, the hopes for the future, the moral structure...RWBY definitely doesn't have any of that—yet.**

 **I chose "Oum" as the name of the RWBYverse god because I followed Monty his entire career—I only started following RT because Monty joined, and I have only followed RWBY since his tragic death. (May he Rest in Peace)**

 **But, all of that is beside the point here. Religion plays no role in this story. So, since it seems to bother a number of people, and breaks their immersion I am retroactively removing Oum from all chapters. So all of you who messaged me with your compelling arguments...**

 **You win.**

 **And, no I'm not bitter, I'm happy to oblige if this will improve the quality of the fic for some.**

 **I will be removing Oum references from all my fics save one.**

 **The only fic of mine that will contain "Oum" as a reference is TSoV because it's a slight AU and the religion has a role in both the lore I am building and the plot as a whole. I would use RWBY's established religion there if I could but, like I said, the Brothers aren't even named in RWBY. I always intended Oum to stand for the brother of light. But he needed to have a name since even religions with unnamed gods still name their gods. "The Unnamed God" or something by which they may refer to him properly.**

 ** _Koala: can confirm, the New Testament in the Bible records a highly religious town (mostly Greek, from memory) that had altars to pretty much every god even remotely known in the region, and also one with the inscription "to the unknown/unnamed god" to avoid angering any god they didn't know to worship. I feel tired just thinking about it…_**

 **Maybe if the show goes and indicates to me that civilians go to church and pray to the Brothers I'll change that one as well.**

 **It's just a stretch to me to think of that one little creation story as the world's religion.**

 **In a fantasy world where you can be eaten by a giant monster any day of the week—and the only defense is positivity and hope...well, I can only imagine that there would be a massive history-impacting religious order. What greater source of hope is there in a chaotic world than an afterlife?**

 **If you guys have compelling evidence otherwise I'd be happy to hear it.**

 **Aside from that fic, no more Oum.**

 **Now, onto a few concerns from last chapter:**

 **Number one:**

 **Glynda assuming Jaune is after Ruby.**

 **I got a review and two PMs asking why Glynda was so fixated on Jaune trying to get with Ruby—since Jaune didn't give all that much indication that he was trying to get with her at all. To which I reply—I understand the confusion. But Glynda's distrustfulness towards Jaune (and Arcs in general) has nothing to do with Jaune himself but a backstory—which I've hinted at, but obviously haven't gotten into.**

 **Glynda's been hurt before (funny as it is to say). Her dislike for Jaune is biased and her thoughts on the Arc family producing womanizers has little to do with the current Arc scion.**

 **I promise, I wrote her excessive loathing and distrust with an appropriate history in mind—that, I believe, will make it all seem far less excessive.**

 **Number two:**

 **As to the concerns I've received about Jaune being too…passive and too easily railroaded I will counter with a few comments.**

 **First, volume 1 Jaune…was a pushover—a pretty big one. I mean, he didn't stand up for himself with Cardin, until he was deliberating over whether he should chuck the sap at Pyrrha. Now, if you agree Jaune is a pushover but feel this rendition of Jaune is still** ** _too_** **much of a pushover I'll simply remind you of this: In order to flesh out the impact of the Arc family on the rest of the character's personalities and backgrounds I've been writing these chapters big—but covering small spans of time.**

 **The length of time from Glynda picking Jaune up in Vale to her walking away from Jaune in the hall, is… probably about an hour-and-a-half, maybe two hours? Give or take a few minutes. Jaune has been kind of ran over—but at this point it's only been an hour and some change. Is it really so unrealistic for Jaune to be dazed, confused and unable to say what needs to be said for two hours when being man-handled by Beacon staff? Consider that it took him days and weeks to stand up to Cardin. You may feel otherwise, but I think his** ** _temporary_** **passivity is pretty in keeping with season 1 canon Jaune.**

 **That said—just like in canon—Jaune will be fine, eventually.**

 **As for why Jaune doesn't immediately blurt out that he doesn't have aura, part of it is him being railroaded, the other part is him not really knowing how important it is. While I decided this version of Jaune is not completely unaware of aura—like in canon—he still hasn't put much time or effort into learning how it works or how** ** _very very_** **important it is in order to attend a school like Beacon.**

 **Oh, and he also can't get a word in whenever he does build up the gumption to tell the truth about his enrollment.**

 **That said, Jaune will get railroaded a bit more before this intro is done, (but hopefully it'll be pretty fun), so bear with me.**

 **Number three:**

 **Now, finally, for those who are a little concerned about this...deception thing that's going on. The absurdity of it? How can it continue? Etcetera…**

 **Well…Just so no one gets too sick of this series before it really even starts I'll reveal this: If you read the story description of this series, it sounds like the premise of this story is Jaune bluffing his way through Beacon.**

 **It's not though.**

 **That's just the hook, the intro if you will.**

 **When I dreamed up this story I had a pretty interesting central idea, but I knew it couldn't be introduced until later on because I wanted the reader to experience the realization of it along with the characters. But I also know getting people to even read the first page of a story requires a strong premise.**

 **The premise of the intro is not the premise of the entire story.**

 **Does that make sense?**

 **I have a 31 page outline for this fic. About one-and-a-half chapters to the page…and the intro takes up about six pages. For good reason, I assure you. But, please, bear with me. You'll know when I introduce the actual premise of the story. (I'll probably also cut some stuff out of the body of the outline, the fic won't necessarily be** ** _that_** **long.)**

 **Hopefully, when I do introduce the premise, you'll understand why I've included Jaune's uncertainty about being a huntsman vs. being a musician… His lack of desire to be a fighter…His wishy-washiness—even the passivity that seems to annoy so many of you…**

 **Even the absurdity I've inserted into the world as a whole is all to make the story's premise seem less absurd when I drop it.**

 **It's not a crack fic. It's an altered history fic asking what if these crazy Arc's essentially mucked up everything in everyone's lives? Some of the characters are** ** _only_** **behaving the strange way they are—because they're interacting with an Arc. Not because their character has been heavily altered.**

 **Ozpin is the most altered character because in this altered history he's been interacting with the crazed Arc line for** ** _centuries_** **.**

 **In other words, hang in there—this is all just introduction so far. Hopefully this introduction is still pretty fun. Because I haven't quite finished introducing characters or the absurdism that I think is necessary for this story to function.**

 **But…yeah…**

 **This isn't the story of Jaune skipping along from one Deus Ex Machina to the next some-how stuck in Beacon in an eternal circle of repetitive comedy. It's a fluffy adventure story. The absurd world-building and environment, I think, are necessary for the absurd premise you all will eventually be given.**

 **Have faith.**

 **Without further ado…**

 _Guitar Huntsman Chapter 5_

Jaune awoke to the sound of a scroll taking pictures in burst mode.

His neck screamed as he corrected his alignment. Somehow, he'd managed to fall asleep with his head cocked awkwardly off the back of the couch. The cramping was monstrous.

Why had he fallen asleep in this god-awful position? Lying flat on his back on the floor would have been more comfortable.

Jaune rubbed his eyes as the sound of a shutter rapidly opening and closing continued, and blinked a few times as he took in his surroundings.

Where was he?

Oh, right.

He had gone exploring last night, with Ruby, and had ended up somewhere in the Beacon library.

Now, onto the next question. Who was _that_?

Jaune peered at the beautiful girl about ten feet away. She was blonde—not quite Arc blonde. Her hair was much too golden for that. Arcs tended to have a paler sort of hair. Jane could just make out her lilac eyes from behind the scroll she was holding. He watched her for a few seconds, as she slowly shuffled to the right, trying to get better angles of whatever she was capturing.

Wait, wasn't that lens pointed at him?

Jaune woke up a little bit more.

He would have leapt to his feet if it weren't for the weight on his thigh. Jaune glanced down.

Oh. That's why he had chosen to sleep in an upright position. A bundle of dark red hair rested peacefully on his thigh, fidgeting occasionally, but, otherwise, remaining relatively still.

"Don't mind me," whispered the blonde girl. "Just getting myself a few _years'_ worth of teasing material."

Ruby 'burrowed' into his leg.

Yang stepped closer. "I better switch to video."

Jaune wasn't sure what to do or say as the girl tapped away on her scroll and then, once again, raised the device to eye level.

He couldn't really move, not without waking Ruby, not unless he was extremely careful. And even if he managed to maneuver himself out from under the girl...what would he do after that? Leave? Leave Ruby with this strange individual who had been photographing the girl in her sleep?

At least she wasn't a guy.

But did that really make it any less creepy?

"I'm Yang, by the way."

Yang. Yang? The name sounded familiar.

"You're Ruby's sister!?" Jaune exclaimed, a little too loudly.

Yang hurriedly placed a finger to her lips, shushing him. "That's right."

Jaune squinted at the girl. She didn't look much like Ruby. She was tall where Ruby was short. She was muscular where Ruby was lithe. She was blonde whereas Ruby's hair was a near-black shade of red. Ruby's eyes were silver; this girl's were purple. They looked nothing alike.

Perhaps it was unfair to expect siblings to look as similar as the Arcs tended to...

But shouldn't they at least share a few traits?

Maybe one of them was adopted. Or maybe they weren't true sisters—just friends as close as sisters.

Yeah, it was probably something like that.

After all, how would some random stranger know Ruby's sister's name? And why would they go through the trouble of impersonating her?

Jaune exhaled a breath he had not been aware he was holding. "Thank god, I thought you were a pervert."

Yang grinned. "I'm not the one with a cute girl in my lap."

Jaune glanced down at Ruby and then up at Yang. Suddenly he was very aware of how this probably looked.

Carefully...

Carefully...

Jaune eased his hand under Ruby's head. He lifted only lightly as he slid his lap out from under her. Once he was standing he laid her back down gently. He held his breath as Ruby mumbled something and rolled onto her side, curling into her cloak a bit more.

"Wow," said Yang. She turned her camera toward herself. "You didn't wake up from that Rubes? You must be getting some _very_ satisfying sleep." She turned her camera back on her sister and continued shooting.

Jaune was struck by just how small the girl was once he set her head down. Sure, she could probably kick his ass any day of the week—she was a huntress after all. But she was shorter than Ellie. And when she tucked her knees and chin she looked as if she wasn't much larger than Cece.

Of course, there was no way _that_ was true. Cece was five—and-a-half!—years old.

Still…

The girl was tiny.

"Jaune, right?"

Jaune turned towards the girl he hadn't noticed sidling up next to him—Ruby's not-so-tiny sister.

Her attention and her camera were still trained on Ruby.

"Yeah."

"She's cute, right?"

Jaune swallowed.

The question felt loaded in so many ways. What was he supposed to say? Yes? And risk her misunderstanding him? And thinking that he was after Ruby?

But then a 'no' didn't seem much better. It was an obvious lie. And there was also the chance that it would seriously piss Yang off.

Ruby was cute.

Of course, she was cute. Her round face, big eyes, short stature, personality...

The girl was practically built for adorability.

So, Ruby was cute.

Just not in a _sexual_ way.

Girls threw around the word 'cute' all the time—but there was a difference between Cece wearing her her dragon onesie and Crystal dressing—as Ellie so delicately put it—like a 'shameless slut'.

Sure, someone might use the word 'cute' to describe both girls—but it was essentially a different word at that point, wasn't it?

Ruby was the dragon-onesie kind of cute, not the halter-top-plus-mini-skirts kind.

Did that make sense?

Sure, in his head.

The question was whether he could successfully convey all that to the girl-in-question's older sister without coming off as an absolute creep.

Was there any point even trying to use his useless mouth to explain this distinction to Yang?

No.

No, there wasn't. He would, no doubt, only succeed in digging himself a nice little grave.

"I'll take your silence as an emphatic yes."

He would rather she take his silence for what it was—silence. But it wasn't as if he could strongly deny anything now. Not without coming off as if he were calling Ruby ugly.

Yang turned off her scroll and slid it into her pocket. "Walk with me Jaune."

Jaune watched the girl turn and walk away.

Did she...

Did she expect him to follow her?

Jaune looked at Ruby, still asleep, and then at Yang, strolling away, without so much as a glance back.

He hesitantly took off in pursuit of the elder sister.

Yang led him out of the secluded corner he and Ruby had slept in and into the open areas of the library.

It was strange, being in such an obviously public place when it was so empty. It had felt right for the library to be empty at night—although his presence in it hadn't. Now, it didn't feel so wrong for him to be here, but the library _itself_ felt destitute and abandoned.

He was pretty sure he knew why Yang was calling him out and—if he was right—it was for the best to just get it over with. Ruby had painted her older sister as extremely protective last night—which made this a bit scary—but protective went a lot of different ways.

Freaking out because her little sister had been missing for three hours. That was a perfectly safe and normal application of older-sibling-protectiveness.

Miles away from that was mercilessly beating the boy she had found her sister asleep with in some obscure corner of the library. That was the kind of older-sibling-protectiveness Jaune couldn't condone.

Well…at least when that aggression was directed at himself.

On the other hand, if _he_ were in Yang's shoes…

Jaune accidentally clenched his fists.

If he walked in on Ellie, asleep, getting felt up by some grown-ass man looking motherf—

Yang came to a complete stop.

Jaune halted too.

They had left the wide-open parts of the space in favor of the aisle between shelves that was, possibly, the furthest location from Ruby in the entire library.

Jaune expected Yang to whirl on him. He expected her to start hurling questions.

He was surprised when she, instead, pulled a book off the shelf, cracked it open, and began to read silently.

She hadn't struck him as the reading type—especially not the type to pop open a book anytime and anywhere. When a minute or so had passed Jaune was starting to feel uncomfortable. He wasn't sure if he should walk away…or, perhaps, say something…?

Finally, he settled on grabbing a book from the shelf so his hands and eyes had something to do.

Especially his eyes. Those furtive glances towards Yang's face to see if she had looked up yet were starting to get sidetracked by the rest of Yang. What a tragedy it would be if, when she did look up, his eyes were glued to the bare skin beneath her neck.

Jaune read the title of the book he had randomly selected. _An Archived Oral History: How Faunus Culture Prevented the Erasure of Southern Legends and Fairytales._ Jaune winced. That sounded…fascinating.

He was about to crack open the book when Yang spoke.

"So, Ruby told me a little bit about you last night…" she trailed off.

Well, if that wasn't the tiniest bit ominous, Jaune didn't know what was.

"All good, I hope."

"Are you kidding?" Yang laughed. "It's Ruby. She was singing your praises. She was all, 'I made this super-awesome friend' and 'Jaune's super-strong' and 'Jaune's super cool.' That sort of stuff."

"I'm not," said Jaune hurriedly. "Ruby's definitely using her imagination a bit."

More than 'a bit', if Jaune was being honest with himself. Jaune was anything _but_ strong. And, while he might have been cool sometimes, in very limited circumstance, to a very limited group of people—namely, his sisters—the jury was still out on whether he was even a halfway decent friend.

"She does tend to see the best in people," agreed Yang, eyes still entrenched in her book. "So, anyway. You being Ruby's first friend at Beacon and all, I just wanted to introduce myself. Ask you a few questions, get to know you, that sort of thing.

Jaune internally relaxed. She just wanted to get to know him a bit? Maybe he'd overthought this whole thing. Yang seemed nice. She was probably just interested in getting to know her little sister's new friend.

Plus, her personality was completely different from what he had assumed it would be when he'd woken to her taking pictures. He figured she'd be the loud, abrasive, life-of-the-party type, like Crystal. But now that she was barely meeting his eyes, nose buried in a book, Jaune could see that she was reserved and reasonable—probably not the type to be ruled by her temper or emotion.

He'd answer these questions no problem. Then maybe he could focus on getting out of this school.

"Shoot," said Jaune.

"Okay," began Yang, eyes still facing her open tome and voice easy. "I got here bright and early this morning. Miss Goodwitch led me to Ruby's room. When I knocked she didn't answer, so Miss Goodwitch let us in. She wasn't in there. Then she banged on your door. When you didn't answer she opened it. She said the two of you must have been _somewhere_ on the school grounds. I asked her where she thought the two of you might have gone. So, she gave me a list of Beacon's best make out spots and, lo and behold, I found you all at number three."

Jaune's confidence drained as Yang spoke. By the time she finished he was barely standing. "W-was there a question in there?"

"Hmm? Oh, you're right." Yang's eyes remained locked on her book.

Jaune noticed something worrisome at that moment. Yang's book was upside-down. And now that he thought about it, it was possible that she hadn't flipped a single page since picking it up.

Also. Her hair was glowing. And was that smoke?

"Explain," said Yang. It was less a question and more a demand. She was still looking at her book. But her voice was no longer even-keeled. Now it had an edge.

A sharp edge.

Was it his imagination or was it getting hotter?

Jaune cleared his throat. "I didn't know that was a make out spot but—"

"Really? Looks like a pretty obvious make out spot to me."

Okay. The way she steadily refused to look up from the book that she, clearly, was not reading was starting to get downright terrifying.

"Ruby and I were exploring Beacon last night. After I accidentally locked myself out of my room, she offered to let me stay in hers…"

The temperature rose a few degrees.

"…but I didn't think that would be appropriate! So, instead, we just wandered around Beacon looking for cookies. Eventually we wound up here. Ruby found that area back there. And we just fell asleep looking at yearbooks from when my parents attended here."

Jaune watched Yang's hair settle. She didn't look as if she might, literally, burst into flames anymore.

It was a start.

Jaune continued to placate the girl as best he could. "I get what you're worried about. Really, I do. I've got seven sisters and five of them are younger than me…"

Jaune trailed off when Yang looked up at him. It was the first time she had met his eyes since she'd brought him over here.

Jaune thought her purple eyes were tinted red but when she blinked the effect was gone. Jaune figured he'd probably imagined it.

"You have seven sisters?" Yang's eyes narrowed, as if she were suspicious that that was just some line. "What are their names?"

"Cece, Paige, Mist, Aren, Ellie, Crystal, and Alana," Jaune rattled off without hesitation. "Ruby actually really reminds me of the youngest one—Cece—that's probably part of why we get along so well. I'm used to being around a girl who's part puppy."

Yang close the book she, more likely than not, hadn't read a word of. "Okay, I'm just going to ask you straight up, because that's the kind of person I am."

"…Okay," replied Jaune.

"Are you trying to get into my sister's pants?"

Jaune answered unflinchingly. "No way, she's a child."

"Fifteen's not that much younger than us," said Yang.

"She's twelve at heart though," countered Jaune.

Yang crossed her arms. "And would that stop _you_?"

Jaune recoiled. What the hell did she mean by that? What was up with that emphasis on 'you'? As if he, in specific, wouldn't let the little things like _age_ stop him.

Why did this girl he had never met think he was a sexual predator…?

Realization hit Jaune like a truck.

"What the hell did Miss Goodwitch tell you?"

"Enough. She told me I should be careful around you. And that I should be extra careful with Ruby around you."

Jaune groaned. "Listen. Miss Goodwitch has only known me a few hours longer than you. I have no idea what I did to give her such a bad impression…"

More like he had no idea what his father and aunt had done to her to make her hate all Arcs for all time.

"…but I promise you. I'm not interested in Ruby that way. And if I was interested in her—and I guess I could be one day because I'm sure she'll grow into a beautiful woman—I'd ask her out and date her and meet her friends and make sure she knows she's the most special girl on Remnant—long before I'd do anything like that."

Yang's eyes and mouth grew incrementally wider throughout Jaune's passionate speech. He knew he nailed it when she started studying his face, trying to confirm whether the statement was genuine. He was confident she would, since it was.

He held Yang's intense gaze for as long as he could and, just when he felt he had to look away, he was given the perfect excuse.

A young female voice calling out his name.

"Over here, Ruby," shouted Jaune in response.

Ruby rounded the corner not even moment later. "Yang!" She practically knocked Jaune into the shelf in her haste to get to her sister. "So? Isn't it amazing? Isn't it incredible? Isn't Beacon awesome? Can you believe they asked me to come here early? There's so much to see. We should explore the rest of the school— _where should we start_?"

"How about breathing?" recommended Yang.

Ruby disagreed.

"Me and Jaune already checked out a bunch of stuff last night but we never found the lockers where they're holding my baby hostage—I mean we found some lockers. But Miss Goodwitch said our weapons are kept in rocket lockers. And the lockers we found just looked like normal lockers. Not that it would matter. Since we didn't have passwords to the lockers anyway. We also couldn't find any cookies—we did find mints though. And Jaune—"

"Ruby," Yang interrupted her exuberant sibling.

Ruby stopped talking long enough to give her a questioning look.

"Aren't you missing something?"

Ruby's questioning expression continued.

Yang pointed at her sister's neck.

Ruby felt around her neck, then she looked behind her. She gasped. "My cloak!" The girl disappeared in the direction she had come from.

Which left Yang and Jaune alone.

Again.

They stared at one another, until Yang broke into a massive grin. She returned her book to its _approximate_ location on the shelf, with a casual flick of her wrist.

Without warning she stepped beside him and flung an arm around his shoulders. He was a bit taller than her—so he had to stoop to accommodate.

"I think I owe you an apology, Jaune!" She laughed. "I guess Ruby was right, you seem like a pretty cool guy. I was only cautious because, well, it's _Ruby_. The only thing she wouldn't befriend is a Grimm. Even then...I wouldn't put it past her..."

Jaune did his best to listen to Yang as she went on.

She wasn't as hyperactive as Ruby, but she was just as talkative—probably more so considering Yang seemed like the type who would talk the ear off a stranger just as soon as a friend.

Unfortunately, Jaune, despite his intention to carefully listen to Yang's longwinded apology, was preoccupied, trying to envision calm rivers and serene forests and elderly people.

Yang had accepted that he wasn't a pervert. She wasn't going to beat him senseless. Or scream at him. Or tell Ruby that she needed to stay away from him at all costs.

These were all good things—no, they were _great_ things!

And all he needed to do now was graciously accept her apology, smile, and nod. It was a lob, the kind of thing even he should have been able to hit.

Didn't even require him to operate a door.

So why was it that his _goddamn brain_ only seemed capable of focusing on the way the side of Yang's ample chest was lightly pressing into him?

He should have been thanking his lucky stars—for their guest appearance on the sit-com of misery that was Jaune's life.

Instead, the lizard part of his brain was trying to get lucky, calculating how much he would need to subtly shift in order to "accidentally" get a better feel.

Jaune drove a stake through that part of himself ruthlessly.

He refocused on what Yang was saying via sheer willpower.

"...and I'm sorry about questioning you while pouring out all that killing intent. But you took it like a champ. Didn't even flinch. You must be pretty strong not to even put up a guard when you've got that much coming at you. You looked as casual as my Uncle Qrow does right before we start sparring."

Jaune nodded and grinned. It must have looked more convincing than it felt since Yang smiled back.

Internally he was screaming.

Killing intent?

Like in those cartoons where the muscle-bound dudes punched each other through mountains!?

Was that real? Were Beacon students expected to be able to detect that?

Was she joking or was she serious?

Should he ask?

And—wait.

Did that mean she would have tried to kill him if he'd answered her questions unsatisfactorily?

Jaune shivered. "Don't worry about it, I'm used to dealing with...killing intent."

"I bet you are!" She laughed.

Infuriatingly, Jaune couldn't tell if she was laughing because he had played along with her joke—and "killing intent" wasn't a thing. Or for some other hitherto unknown reason.

Yang released him with a hefty slap to the back—that hurt like hell, dammit. He was sure it'd develop a hand-print bruise later.

"Oh yeah, one more thing. Miss Goodwitch asked me to tell you that she found your keycard—you know, after we broke into your room looking for Ruby—she said you'll need to go see her to get it back."

Jaune's heart sunk past his feet.

Straight to the center of Remnant.

"Also, Miss Goodwitch dropped off your stuff. Hope you didn't have anything too delicate in those bags. She was kind of...rough."

That sent a chill down Jaune's spine strong enough to completely distract him from the side boob wedged into his chest.

His ukulele?

His retro keytar?

His guitar?

Jaune had the sudden urge to take off at a sprint towards his room. The only things stopping him were the sound of Ruby returning, and the fact that he wouldn't actually be able to get into his room.

Ruby rounded the corner with her crimson cloak fixed snugly around her neck. "Okay, I've got it!" She beamed at her sister and then Jaune in turn. "What do you guys want to do now?"

Jaune had to consider that question for a moment. He wanted to check to see if his instruments were in one piece. But in order to do that he would need to get his keycard. And Miss Goodwitch had his keycard.

To say he felt conflicted was a serious understatement.

"I say," declared Yang. "Since Miss Goodwitch said she'd make sure they at least had some cereal and milk out. We eat breakfast. And, after we load up on the carbs, we track down the headmistress to get the keycodes to our lockers. Than we spar to celebrate!"

Jaune's stomach rumbled audibly.

"Sounds like he's on board," said Yang, laughing.

Well...she wasn't wrong. Jaune was on board with most of her plan. Now that she mentioned it, He felt a pang of hunger. And his other big priorities calling home and checking on his beautiful instruments were both currently inhibited by a locked door to which Glynda held the key. He'd rather approach the easily-irritated woman with Ruby and Yang by his side than by himself.

It was that last bit about sparring that had him just the tiniest bit worried. But, surely, he'd be able to slip away before any punches started flying...

Surely...

l*l*l

 _"You'll help people with your music Jaune," interrupted Ellie. "You'll help a lot more people by making beautiful music than you will by getting yourself killed trying to be something you're not."_

 _"So, you think I'll die if I try to be a Huntsman huh?" said Jaune. He didn't look or sound surprised just… defeated. "You know, the whole-time dad's been training me I was thinking, 'it's impossible, there's no way, I'm not made for this…'but I guess, at some point, I started to believe him. Pretty stupid huh?"_

 _"No."_

 _"No?" repeated Jaune._

 _"No," Ellie confirmed._

 _"No what?"_

 _"You are misunderstanding me. I was not saying you can't become a huntsman. I think dad's right, you could be a huntsman if you wanted to be one. When I said you'll get yourself killed trying to be something you're not, I was talking about going to Beacon in two days. Beacon is an upper-level school, it's for people who are already huntsmen and huntresses. You could be a huntsman. But you aren't one. You're going to get hurt if you pretend."_

Jaune rehashed the exchange he had with his little sister not so long ago in his head.

Yep.

She was wrong.

Not about him dying if he tried to go to Beacon with zero training. No, she was spot on about that.

No, she was wrong when she said she thought he could ever be a huntsman.

No way in hell.

Her faith in him...

And his father's...

Completely misplaced.

Couldn't have been more off the mark.

Not even if they'd been placing their faith while blind, drunk, and handicapped.

Jaune watched little chunks of the training arena fly up into the air as Ruby stabbed her ridiculous sniper scythe into the ground.

How did it penetrate? Why? How did Ruby's little body even generate the force necessary to stab through what appeared to be solid stone?

Was her scythe just that sharp? Did it cut through rock like butter? Was that even possible?

Yang rushed forward, attempting to close the distance. It was the obvious move, get to Ruby _before_ she could resume firing her _fifty-caliber_ sniper rifle.

Ruby had explained to Jaune before they'd started that she was just using sparring ammo. To which Jaune had breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, the bullet still came at you at something like 1400 miles per hour—but at least this one wasn't pointy.

Wasn't that what he'd been told as a child?

Never play with guns if they're loaded with pointy bullets—those things are dangerous. Nevermind the round bullets, they just sting a little.

Ruby used her semblance to back out of Yang's range. It was her go to strategy right before Yang broke through her guard.

It would have been effective in a wide-open battlefield.

But the nature of the ring limited the effectiveness of Ruby's inhuman movements. She was never able to get to a distance where she had time to set up and take advantage of her range.

Yang had the clear advantage. The ring was constricting Ruby's movements and her fighting style. She kept using her semblance at the last second to escape Yang's _shotgun gauntlets,_ but Yang was careful not to let her sibling get her footing. She'd use the blasts of her own weapons to fling herself at absurd speeds before Ruby could take a shot.

Admittedly, Yang's absurd speeds were _nothing_ when compared to the momentum Ruby was building...

Still, it was all just a blur of violence to Jaune. He couldn't really track either of them.

Jaune's heart raced as he watched the over-the-top display of violence. There was so much that looked as if it would kill a normal person.

The weapons...

The shots...

The blows...

This was nothing like what he and his dad had been practicing in their backyard.

A sword? What would that do?

Would it enable him to check his reflection, so he could make sure he looked good as he died with a chest full of buckshot?

A shield? What was that for?

Was it just something to cower behind as he tried to tank sniper rounds from one-hundred yards out?

Hell, it was like that comic—the one that did a crossover with X-ray and Vav? There was a whole team of superheroes, some of them were, essentially, gods, others could turn into monsters, others had high tech gear...

But then there was this one guy with a bow and arrow. He survived—somehow. But, he shouldn't have. The shit they were facing was downright absurd.

The ending of that comic should have been the team delivering that guy's bullet riddled body to his family.

Jaune was ripped from his less than relevant thoughts by the sound of Yang's fist finally making contact and Ruby's squeal.

Jaune watched in horror as Crescent Rose flew in one direction as Ruby flew in the other. The girl soared ten feet, landing on the ground, and sliding another six. For a moment she didn't move.

Had he just witnessed Yang knock her younger sister out? Or, worse yet, kill her?

Suddenly the little spats Ellie and Aren got into at home didn't seem quite so bad.

"You okay Ruby?" Jaune called out tentatively.

Ruby responded with a moan that turned into a whine as she began to roll across the arena one way and then rolled back. Jaune could swear he had seen Cece do something similar when she was throwing a temper-tantrum—only with a bit more flailing and wailing.

They weren't wails of pain. Just annoyance. And, for that, Jaune was thankful.

But he was also several times more certain that he absolutely had to get out of this school.

The fact that student huntresses could exact such extreme violence like this was horrifying enough. The fact that they could perform it upon one another, without fear of injuring or killing...

Well that just meant it was only a matter of time before someone 'accidentally' maimed him.

He felt bad for promising to Ruby to stay here. He really did. And he would do his best to explain everything to her—if he could...

But his priorities had just shifted. After all, he'd been thinking about this whole thing as he either escaped—or he never become a musician. Now it was starting to seem more like an escape or _die_ sort of scenario.

He wished he'd had the guts to just say something to Miss Goodwitch when they'd visited her office earlier. But, between Yang and Ruby's obvious impatience and the woman in question's fierce scowl…

He'd missed yet another opportunity remove himself from this hellish institution.

Jaune exhaled. No big deal. His mindset was different now. He had transitioned from, 'searching for the right moment to explain why he shouldn't be here,' to 'willing to sneak aboard a bullhead, in the next half-hour.'

It was less a transition in thinking inspired by his intellect...

And more an evolution of thought dictated by his screaming survival instincts.

Jaune snapped back to the scene before him.

Ruby continued rolling as she shouted, "You cheated, Yang!"

"What? How did I cheat? It's not my fault you got distracted—"

"Yes, it is! You distracted me!"

"Oh come on," said Yang with a dismissive wave. "That wasn't on purpose."

Ruby stopped rolling and sat up. "Wasn't on purpose? You said..." Ruby trailed off when she looked up at Jaune.

"I said what?" asked Yang, with a grin that couldn't be mistaken as anything short of smug. "Honestly, what did I say?"

"It doesn't matter what you said. It was cheating!" Ruby stood, dusting herself off. Her face was twisted in a pout. "I demand a rematch."

"Nope, we agreed little sis, whoever gets the first big hit wins and then we're done. Have to make sure we're both in shape for initiation."

Ruby grumbled something under her breath, but she sighed afterwards. "Yeah, you're right."

"I know I am," said Yang. "It's called being a big sister. Always right. It's part of the job description."

Jaune thought about his older sisters, Crystal and Alana. He wasn't so sure he would put 'always right' in a sentence with either of their names.

'Seldom right.'

That seemed more appropriate.

"That said, my aura is still good to go. Jaune, you wanna go a round?"

Jaune imagined Yang punching his spine out of his body. "No thanks. No shoes." He held up a socked foot. They had gone back for Ruby's shoes before seeking out Miss Goodwitch—the order had allowed Jaune to maintain the perfect excuse for staying out of the ring—not that he would have entered if he'd had shoes either. "Besides I agreed to watch you guys because Ruby begged. But I still need to make those calls."

Thinking that was enough explanation for an exit, Jaune stood, and walked towards the door.

"Wait!" Ruby called.

Jaune turned.

"Aren't you going to check on your baby?"

"My what?"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Your weapon. You didn't even open your locker! Don't you _want_ to make sure she's okay? You do, don't you? You don't… _not care_ …do you?"

There was something about the way Ruby phrased and rephrased her question with increasing intensity that made Jaune believe she would think less of him if he answered with anything other than affirmation.

He fished the slip of paper Miss Goodwitch had given him out of his pocket. She had certainly made it sound as if he would find actual weapons inside of his locker. But Jaune was sure as hell he hadn't brought any with him...

Perhaps he had been provided some? That made some sort of sense. This was a combat school after all. Perhaps there were placeholder weapons for those who didn't bring their own. Placeholders that would, no doubt, pale in comparison to the insanity that was a shotgun bracelet and a sniper rifle ice pick.

In the end, Jaune's curiosity got the best of him. He needed to get out of here, but he could chance a peek, couldn't he? He went to the locker indicated on the parchment. He entered his code and tugged on the handle.

"Huh." What else was there to say?

Ruby gushed from behind him. "Whoa, you have three weapons! That's so cool!"

Yang, despite clearly having less interest than Ruby, still seemed intrigued by the contents of his locker. "Do you have a semblance that works on sound waves or something? Or is that just your thing, your weapons are all shaped like…"

"…instruments?" finished Jaune, as he ran his fingers over the cloth cover of one of his 'babies.' The real question here wasn't whether his weapons complimented his semblance or if he was just a weirdo who liked his weapons to be shaped like guitars and such. A better question was why Glynda had put some instruments in a rocket locker and told him to expect weapons?

Jaune immediately ruled out the idea that the headmistress of Beacon knew that they were just instruments. Miss Goodwitch had claimed he would find his weapons in his locker. From anyone else it could have been some sort of joke.

But Miss Goodwitch didn't seem like the joking type.

Or the laughing type, either, for that matter.

It wasn't all that hard to imagine someone mistaking a guitar in its case for a huntsman weapon. Just looking at Ruby's sniper-scythe made it clear that huntresses and huntsmen were fans of… exotic weapon design.

Alana's weapon design was strange too, come to think of it.

But if Miss Goodwitch so much as held one of the instruments, wouldn't she realize that they were just hollow pieces of wood? They were hardly heavy enough to do damage to a fellow civilian, much less a Grimm, or, god-forbid, an enemy huntsman.

Perhaps she had used her powers to float them here. Just as she had to himself and Ruby. Perhaps that was shy she never got a good feel for their weight.

Jaune grabbed each of his instruments. He slung the guitar and keytar over opposite shoulders. The ukulele he kept in hand.

"Are you going to take them out of the case?" asked Ruby, practically drooling. Her bright eyes were locked onto his instruments with palpable fervor.

"Later," replied Jaune. "I really have to go make those calls now."

"Aww," Ruby whined. "At least let me see. Please?"

Jaune closed his locker and began to walk away. "I will, just not right now."

"I think we're supposed to leave our weapons in the locker," Yang called out after him.

"Maintenance," Jaune replied, picking up his pace. "I need to do some maintenance while I'm on the call. I'll put them back later."

"See you later, Jaune!" cheered Ruby.

Jaune waved over his shoulder but he could not return her farewell.

After all, when she said, 'see you later' she meant later in the day. Jaune had no doubt he would see Ruby again. They were certainly friends now.

But he wouldn't be seeing her again today. No way.

Because he was getting the hell out of this school…

Before it was too late.

l*l*l

Jaune would have liked to take some time to play, to get some of the last few day's events on paper.

A melody…Some lyrics…

He could have sung for hours.

As it was, he didn't have time for that. He checked his instruments, just to make sure they weren't broken. But he didn't do so much as strum beyond that.

After requiring a moment to locate his charger, Jaune plugged in his scroll. He would call home once he had enough juice.

For now, though…

For now, he needed to figure out his next move. Watching Ruby and Yang spar had been a bit of an eye opener.

Nearly getting killed by a thug during a hold-up…

Being forced, against his will, to meet that peculiar headmaster by a woman with insane telekinetic powers…

And now watching two teenage girls have a friendly spar.

Jaune had known that Beacon wasn't the place for him from the beginning.

He knew it because fighting was silent. It was mute. It was empty.

Music, on the other hand, spoke to him. It pulled on the strings to his heart, drawing him into its warm embrace. It consumed his mind, his fingers, his imagination…

Well, at least it _usually_ consumed those parts of him.

He'd been rather…distracted…as of late. Everything had been happening so quickly recently it felt as if it had been ages since he last played.

Had it _really_ only been two or three days?

Jaune sat on his bed, groaning.

He hated this. He hated that he wasn't doing what he loved. He hated that there existed something that could get between him and his passion. He hated the way the whole world seemed to be conspiring to keep him at this school…

He could not name all the aspects of his circumstances he hated. There were simply too many.

But wait.

Perhaps it was that hatred that had blinded Jaune to the real dangers of this situation. Was that why he was only now realizing what he was actually risking by being here?

Jaune wanted to make music that changed the world.

He had always been certain of that, without room for even a single doubt.

So, the stakes for leaving the horror house known as Beacon Academy in time for VAA initiation had always been high. It was the difference between conceding to whatever goddamn force seemed determined that Jaune become a huntsman and him pursuing his lifelong dreams.

At least…

Those _were_ the stakes.

Now though…

Now it was painfully obvious he had underestimated what he was dealing with.

Escape from Beacon wasn't a matter of to play or not to play music.

It was a matter of goddamn life and death.

Thank God, Ruby had managed to convince him to tag along to her and Yang's 'training' session—as if it could truly be called that.

It had been an eye opener.

Ruby, faster than he could follow—and Yang, stronger than he could imagine.

What was the colossal divide between him and the sisters? The one that made him look like a kitten sat beside two lionesses?

Who knew?

Maybe it was aura—something he and his father _certainly_ had not spent enough time discussing. Although, Jaune couldn't imagine some mystical force that would allow him to stand in the ring with either of those girls.

Maybe it was the years of training—something Jaune had the opportunity to receive, but he in which he had neglected to partake because—well, for reasons he could hardly remember at this point.

Why the hell couldn't he have focused on music and fighting?

 _"Because then I wouldn't be the best at either one,"_ said a young Jaune to his father.

Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose. Young Jaune needed to shut his goddamn mouth and listen to his goddamn elders.

But then maybe it wasn't the lack of training…

Maybe it was those insane weapons—each of them designed to kill a hundred different original ways. Jaune couldn't imagine why his father still used Crocea Mors.

How could he, when there were weapons like _those_ available?

It wasn't as if his father would have to change up his fighting style. Why not simply replace Crocea's blade with a laser?

Jaune snorted.

A laser-sword sounded even less reasonable than a sniper scythe.

Actually…a laser sword sounded freakin' awesome.

And now he was off-topic.

How had he not known this?

How had he not been aware of the massive gap between him and a hunter? Sure, he'd always known he was a bad fighter. And he had known his father was strong…

But just how strong was he?

He knew with respect to other hunters his father was top-tier, which meant he was stronger than most adult fully-trained hunters.

How much stronger than Ruby and Yang did that make him?

Three, four, five times…?

Why hadn't Jaune ever seen it?

Then there was Crystal and Alana.

They were both going into their third and fourth year respectively. Didn't that mean they were both stronger than Yang and Ruby also?

How had he not been aware that they were this absurdly powerful?

Unbidden, a memory floated to the surface of his mind. It was of Mathias Arc, shouting at Jaune's older sisters for nearly an hour. They had still been in combat school at the time, which meant years had passed since then.

Jaune could barely remember his father's longwinded rant, but he recalled the subject-matter.

It was about how the girls should conduct themselves around non-hunters. The responsibility they had to reassure civilians with their presence—not terrify them.

That's right. A few more details concerning the event bobbed towards the light.

Crystal and Alana had been fighting with one another.

Ellie had been around. She hadn't been hurt or anything… just scared her sisters would injure one another.

Jaune hadn't seen the two of them fight since that day. Even their sparring was done in private.

Was that because seeing them fight, full force, up close—not while seated in the stands or from behind a screen—would make him feel like this…?

Jaune stared at his shaking hand for a long moment. He made a fist when he grew tired of his own trembling.

This wasn't where he belonged. And he needed to leave.

He wanted to explain things to Ruby.

He wanted to let Glynda and Ozpin know he didn't have aura.

He wanted to laugh all this away and it explain it all as one big stupid misunderstanding.

He wanted to assure Miss Goodwitch that not all Arcs were as awful as she believed. Why, there still himself, Ellie, Cece...

Maybe Aren…?

Whatever.

The point was, he would have liked to set all this straight, right then and right there. But, for some reason, the words kept getting stuck in his mouth. Or the timing was all wrong.

Every time he looked at Ruby he felt terrible—worried he'd hurt her feelings.

And every time he saw Miss Goodwitch he felt terrible—because he was just straight-up afraid of her.

And then he just…never said what need to be said. He kept pretending, as if this façade had any hope of a happy ending.

It didn't.

There were a lot of ways all this could end. None of those ways involved everyone being happy.

But, some of them included him alive, not in a hospital, and…well…alive.

At this point, he just needed to take whatever he could get.

He'd figure out when and where, and then he'd sneak out of Beacon—without a trace.

Sure, he would still explain himself to everyone.

But he'd do that via a scroll call, from the safety of his VAA dorm.

Or…

Jaune slammed a fist into an open palm. He could leave a letter! A letter meant he wouldn't have to watch Ruby's face as she realized he had lied to her—even on a phone screen. And, if he left Ruby a letter, he could trust her to pass on the details to Miss Goodwitch couldn't he?

He'd prefer not to call her himself. What if she could use the background visible during the call to track him down?

Yeah, he'd leave that up to Ruby. It wasn't as if _she_ was in any danger. Miss Goodwitch did not appear to bear her any ill-will.

Jaune's mind raced, ironing out the specifics of his plan. There were a lot of little things to consider and he wasn't much of a consider-the-little-things kind of guy.

There were the students arriving later that day.

There were the transports that would be arriving on.

There was Miss Goodwitch—and the fact that she was watching him, surly closer than she was watching anyone else.

And then there was that letter to Ruby, how was he going to write such a thing—and what would it contain?

There was also his flight sickness, his family, his responsibility…

And then there was also his luggage.

He couldn't take it all with him. It would make it too obvious that he was leaving if anyone saw him with it. He probably couldn't take all his instruments—not while trying to remain inconspicuous. Which meant he'd have to pick who to take with him…

Jaune glanced at his three beauties, scattered about the room.

It would break his heart to leave two of them behind, but it wasn't a big deal.

As soon as this whole misunderstanding was cleared up—while he was somewhere far away from this devilish institution posing as a school—they would return his stuff, right? He hoped.

With a gentle chime, Jaune's scroll powered on. Its battery finally had enough charge to light up the screen.

Jaune stared at the device. It would be so easy to call Ellie. So easy. When it came to concocting plans and ironing out the details, Ellie was a master. The girl had a special binder hidden in her room, containing detailed outlines of her life goals and the steps she would take to achieve said goals.

As far as Jaune knew, he was the only Arc to be shown a glimpse of that binder's interior—albeit a short one.

Yes, Ellie's expertise would be of great assistance here. She'd likely send him an hour-by-hour itinerary for escape a few minutes after they hung up.

There was just one problem.

Jaune didn't really want to call her.

He didn't want to put the burden of thinking up a way out of here. She was his little sister, not his mother.

And he was a man. A man who had been accepted into the most prestigious art school on Remnant.

As tempted as he felt, Jaune knew he didn't need Ellie's help on this one. He couldn't keep relying on her—or anyone else for that matter. He would take hold of his reality. He would force it to submit.

He could do this on his own.

Jaune reached for his scroll. He pressed and held the power button.

The next time he spoke to Ellie—and the rest of his family too…

Jaune Arc wouldn't be the pathetic husk he was beginning to feel like.

He will have beaten the Beacon belligerence.

He will have conquered his coerced cowardice.

He will have defeated this damned destiny bullshit.

Jaune Arc would be a man.

A free man.

l*l*l

 _Approximately 23 hours later_

Ozpin watched the kids soar into the forest one by one. It was almost spiritual in a way, sending excited children off to find themselves. It was like a metaphor for becoming an adult.

This was the worst part of teaching.

The best part was teaching those same excited children, just how shitty being an adult was.

"Listen to me goddammit! Why won't you listen to me!?"

Ozpin watched Glynda approach, an Arc floating behind her. He sipped his coffee. Thank God, he went with the Mistralian Sun for his morning brew. It almost made life—even one as endless and obnoxious as his—sweet.

"Miss Goodwitch," he began, mindful of the students around who had not yet launched—although that number was quickly depleting. "You have returned."

Glynda was all business as she dumped Jaune Arc in front of him. "I told you he was behaving strangely yesterday. I caught him lurking around the air pad yesterday, talking to pilots about their flight schedules—he couldn't have been less subtle if he tried. And then I caught him sneaking aboard a bullhead today!"

"Oh?" Ozpin raised a brow. "Is that where you have been all morning Glynda? Watching our resident Arc from the shadows?"

Glynda glared at him but made no attempt towards denial.

Ozpin peered down at Jaune. It was the first he had seen of the boy with his weapon. Slung over Jaune's back was a bag that looked like a guitar case—which wasn't so unusual. Off the top of his head, Ozpin could name a few huntsmen and huntresses who used music based weapons in concert with their semblance to devastating effects.

But this was an Arc.

Rictus didn't believe in such frivolous fighting methods. More likely than not, that guitar case was just an easy way for Jaune to carry around a monstrous switch-axe without arousing too much attention. While most other students utilized smaller or compactable weapons that could easily be stashed on their person, Jaune's likely had too much mass for it to compress any smaller than a guitar.

Ozpin wondered how heavy such a weapon must have been. It couldn't be less than one-hundred pounds. All that solid metal. Couldn't it easily be pushing two-hundred?

Jaune's shoulders didn't dip towards his load-bearing side, not even a bit.

Ozpin smiled inwardly. He made it look as easy and casual as carrying an actual guitar. It hardly sounded physically possible but, then again, he was an Arc.

They'd been redefining 'possible' for centuries.

"Were you intending to skip initiation Mister Arc?"

"Busted!" cheered Yang, before she was propelled into the sky.

Ruby, the only student who had not yet been launched, spoke.

"Jaune what are you—" she was interrupted by takeoff.

And then there were three.

Jaune glared at Glynda over his shoulder for a half second and then at Ozpin. He looked angry. Extremely so.

"Listen Jaune," Ozpin exhaled. What was the best way to approach a young Arc? A warrior god trapped in a teenage body?

"I understand that you may find our initiation process here a little…tame compared to what you are accustomed. But it's very important for the team selection process. Our methods for pairing you are reliant upon an age-old system of—"

"I'm not a huntsman!" interrupted Jaune.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not a huntsman. I don't have aura unlocked. I don't have training. If you put me on that launchy thingy I will absolutely, one-hundred-percent die."

Ozpin stared at the boy in front of him. No, not boy. Arc.

It started in his gut, working its way up his throat like an eight-legged parasite. It erupted from him with the force and suddenness of an unknotted garden hose.

Laughter.

Ah. It felt good to laugh.

Jaune's eyes were wide and his jaw even wider as he stared at him with, what looked like, an aghast expression.

Oh, that just made it even funnier.

Ozpin bent over trying to catch some oxygen. He was careful not to spill a drop of coffee—he wasn't an animal after all.

Was this boy seriously claiming to have survived the training of Rictus Arc without…without his aura unlocked?

"Glynda," said Ozpin, dropping his formality. He nodded towards the final launchpad, Jaune Arc's. He chuckled a few more times before he finished. "If you would be so kind."

Jaune wriggled against Glynda's invisible grip as she lifted him and dropped him off on the launch pad. Jaune scrambled to his feet as a cranking noise began.

"It may bore you Mr. Arc, but please do your best through initiation."

Ozpin looked to the sky as the launch pad activated. He expected to watch an Arc soar gracefully into the sky.

Instead he saw nothing—aside from the other, less useful children in the distance, just beginning the descent of their arcs.

He looked towards Jaune. The boy had stepped off the launch pad. "Are you crazy? If I get launched into the sky like that I _will die_! I don't have aura!"

Ozpin, exhaled, this joke was going on a little _too_ long. "Mr. Arc, do you have any idea how troublesome these devices are to reset?"

Jaune stared at him. Ozpin stared back. The boy was looking for something.

What was he looking for?

Ozpin had no idea. He took a sip of coffee. Mmm. Life was good. For an instant.

Suddenly, Jaune's tone changed. "I have flashbacks."

"Flashbacks?" repeated Ozpin.

"I don't like being thrown through the air."

Ah, he struggled with the same issues as his father then. The scars from Rictus's training ran deep. "What happened?" asked Ozpin.

Jaune paused before answering, "My grandpa…he threw me off a mountain…"

"Off of a mountain…?" repeated Ozpin.

"I was seven," said Jaune. "Ever since...I can't handle flying or falling."

"Ah. Well, I can see how these launch pads would create some anxiety then. I'm sure we can accommodate an alternative method of entry into the forest." He turned to his right-hand woman. She looked all kinds of peeved. "Glynda, would you so kindly assist Mister Arc?"

Ozpin raised his mug to his lips, pretending that fearsome glare didn't exist. The ambrosia touched his tongue. Gods. It was good. He closed his eyes for a moment, just to savor the taste. He opened his eyes and turned back to Jaune Arc.

Only, he was gone, nothing but a fading scream in his place.

He looked to the sky. Jaune was flying far faster and lower than his future schoolmates. Ironic, really, that the Arc, was the only one without an 'arc.'

"Glynda, when I asked you to assist our student into the forest, I didn't mean hurl him with all your strength off the cliff."

"Remember, no special treatment Ozpin."

Ozpin stared at his workmate's ivory-carved expression, wondering if even she believed her supposed motives.

Rather than call her out on it, he glanced down at the last few swallows in his mug. "He looked as if he was moving at least twice as fast as the others."

"To help him catch up."

Ozpin wasn't sure he quite bought into that. He raised his mug. "You checked to make sure he has aura, right?"

Glynda shrugged. "Who could perform an aerial drop off the back of a Giant Nevermore without aura?"

Ozpin hummed as he downed the rest of his godlike coffee.

Glynda had a point.

Or, at least, she would have.

If he hadn't made that up on Rictus's behalf.

Come to think of it.

He'd made up every single one of Jaune's absurd accomplishments.

Was it possible that…?

No. No way.

If Jaune Arc was telling the truth, then all that would be left of him upon landing was a broken, mangled corpse.

There was _no way_ that would happen…

An Arc dying during initiation? From a fall, no-less?

Ozpin chuckled.

The very _idea_ was ludicrous.

 **R.I.P.**

 ** _If you like this fic, check out my new one The Navigator. I think it'll appeal most to people who enjoy this one. It's a zany adventure AU._**

 **So, I got this long ranting message about how Ruby's hair is ruby red and it just looks dark when the scene is dark. And how I shouldn't call her dark-haired or a brunette or anything. So—while I completely disagree with the notion that Ruby's hair is "Ruby red" seeing as that's essentially the shade of her cloak and the two colors are obviously very different...do you all think Ruby's hair is a sufficiently dark shade of red for me to refer to her as being dark haired or a brunette? Do you think RT is just sort of inconsistent about it between models, art, and figurines? I looked up a bunch of pictures and I still think some art depicts her hair as almost the same shade as her cloak—whereas the show certainly doesn't.**

 **I'm not really certain about this myself, so it's definitely a point I'm willing to concede to the masses.**

 **Thoughts?**

 **Drop a fave, follow, review, etcetera...so I know if I'm still entertaining you.**

 **Peace.**

 **-Vronsurd**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'mmmmmmmmmm baaaaaaaaaccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.**

 **Keep reading to discover if I'm only partially back or I'm really, really back.**

 **Hey all.**

 **Yes, I've seen your PMs. Yes, I've seen your tears and begs.**

 **I haven't been absent because of writer's block or laziness, I've just been super busy—not on a fanfic unfortunately.**

 **I'm a freelance writer, so sometimes my schedule gets consumed by something big. If I write sixty or seventy hours a week only ten or fifteen of those are ever spent on pleasure writing. And if those ten or fifteen get overtaken by the stuff that pays the bills…**

 **Well, that's that.**

 **No fics are dropped.**

 **My schedule was just shite for a while. But it isn't any more, so I'm back!**

 **To all the messages and reviews telling me to get my act together…**

 **Ha…so sorry.**

 **And to the guy who sent me:**

 **"fanfics are dreams and dreams pay bills so quit life and get back to writing dreams."**

 **Lmfao.**

 **Anyway…**

 **Regular updates are back! But…different from before.**

 **As I explained above my schedule fluctuates with unfortunate regularity. I have control over it, yes, but I'm not really in a position where I can turn down work for the sake of fanfiction.**

 **So, after several conversations with the people who PM'd me (They pretended like they were advising me to just be helpful, but I know they just want them updates) I've decided on a couple of things to keep my updates consistent.**

 **First, I'll be adjusting my chapter length to something I can do in about 8 hours. That should help.**

 **Second, I'll be working out a schedule I should be able to maintain, through most of my busier times.**

 **Finally, I've started a Pat r eon. It's for a couple things. Some that I've kept up with recently, others that I haven't: fanfictions, rewriting poorly translated light novels, original fiction, etc...**

 **As far as the Pat r eon's influence on my fanfiction, it's mostly just for people who want faster updates. If I replace a certain amount of income with it, I'll just have more time to write and update—potentially even several fics.**

 **I really like writing fanfiction, and it's been killing me not being able to over the last few months. I'll write regardless of whether or not I have support—but it would be nice to be able to write more often and avoid the hell I've endured for the first bit of 2018.**

 **My Pat r eon is "pat r eon . com (forward slash) vronsurd".**

 **Mmkay. Think that's all on that front.**

 **So, about this chapter:**

 **This is something I've actually wanted to explore for a while. In the show Jaune getting launched into the forest is played for laughs. He flips around awkwardly as he soars, and he screams—but the funny kind, not the actually fear of death scream. Not the Willhelm scream.**

 **But because Jaune doesn't have aura...and doesn't know how to use his weapon...and has no Huntsman training in general…**

 **I wasn't sure how to write this thing from his perspective.**

 **Shouldn't he absolutely believe that he is seconds away from a violent and sudden death before Pyrrha saves him?**

 **Shouldn't he be in tears?**

 **Maybe.**

 **But, again, the show plays it for laughs. Jaune cheerily shouts "thanks" after Pyrrha snags him.**

 **This leaves me in a bit of a quandary. It seems well within Jaune's character to be absolutely terrified as he flies into the forest without aura or a landing strategy to his name—but the show makes him seem pretty casual and unshaken about it.**

 **And then also the aura stuff that Roosterteeth has established this past season. Apparently, aura doesn't just naturally protect you, you have to activate and manipulate it at will. Huntsmen are just really good at it because they've been doing it for such a long time?**

 **How does that even work for the initiation?**

 **Jaune has to fight giant Grimm but he hasn't learned how to use aura yet? Doesn't that mean he dies like ten times over?**

 **Does it even matter if his aura activates since it takes time and training to learn how to make it protect you? Also, doesn't that mean that when the kids are playing around with lethal force that if one of them screws up their aura control they could actually kill each other? Like in the food fight if Nora smacked Yang and Yang wasn't quite ready it would have been an instant kill?**

 **I'm not opposed to this adjustment made by Roosterteeth—making aura take more skill. I like when power is born out of skill…but I don't think the universe of RWBY was ever really structure for aura not to be passive. So I'm not sure why they kind of slipped it in as a semi-retcon. Maybe they just wanted to explain how Sienna got shishkabobbed out of nowhere. But I think they could have accomplished that by just explaining that Adam can cut through aura, or, better yet, have killed her with poison or with actual combat or something.**

 **That said, I don't think the change affects anyone more than it affects season 1 Jaune.**

 **He should be…**

 **Dead.**

 **Dead.**

 **Dead.**

 **Anyway…**

 **Spoiler for EPISODE 12:**

 **To the people messaging me asking if I correctly guess Jaune's semblance in The Shield of Vale. Yeah. You're right. He has the ability to share aura. There's a tiny bit more to it that will be revealed later in the story. But yeah that's basically it…**

 **Did I know that Roosterteeth was gonna go in the healing direction? No. But I figured it would be defensive. And the most obvious defense is giving someone without aura or with less aura your own aura. That's how I arrived at that conclusion.**

 **Without further ado…**

 **Guitar Huntsman Chapter 6**

So, this was how he died.

Hadn't he written a song at some point about dying with a guitar on his back?

It had felt a little tongue-in-cheek back then.

And now he was actually living it.

Maybe 'living it' wasn't the most appropriate phrasing.

Since it implied, you know, living.

And right now, he was about to die—hopefully, quickly and painlessly.

Although the way his luck had been going the past few days, the trees would probably cushion his fall _just_ enough for him to break every bone in his body _except_ his neck.

Then he would starve to death.

Over the course of two weeks.

While those little bug Grimm ate his fingers and toes.

Yeah.

That sounded about right.

Jaune struggled to open his eyes.

The wind was furious, whipping across his face relentlessly. He could squint, but that was just about it.

It was enough to get his bearings.

Mother of…

Getting his bearings?

Yeah.

 _That_ was a mistake.

It broke his morbid acceptance of his circumstances into tiny pieces and reassembled those pieces into a monument of sheer terror.

First, there was the height. Holy crap was he high. Had he ever been this high before?

Hard to say.

He remembered attending a traveling carnival with his family once. One of the rides had shot people straight into the air inside a plastic ball—like a giant slingshot, only the projectile never left the sling. It just bobbed up and down at an unfathomable rate.

Had he gone higher then?

Again, hard to say.

The _ride_ had a compartment and a seat and a seat belt, all of which cut the edge off the height tremendously.

They hadn't been enough to stop Jaune from throwing up all over the stranger he was riding with…

But what could possibly have stopped _that_?

He should never have been on that ride in the first place—not with a stranger at least. The four sisters who had convinced him to ride 'with them' had conveniently forgotten to mention that the ride could only take two people up at a time and that he'd be the odd one out.

Goddamn sisters.

Second, there was the speed. Oh, the speed. Was he moving faster than the Bullhead that had delivered him to this so-called school?

Who knew?

Goddamn Glynda Goodwitch

Goddamn _destiny_.

 _Especially_ , goddamn destiny.

How the hell had he even wound up here? On the cusp of death?

It was a fair question.

One that his brain, in its death-addled state, answered in a rapid blur of thoughts and images—an entire day, condensed into a few seconds.

I*I*I

First, there was the letter.

He had written it for Ruby. It was good. Very good. He'd dug deep into his bag of lyrical tricks. The entire thing read more like a poem than prose.

The letter explained everything. Who he was. Why he had to get the hell away. And that he'd still be happy to be her friend—just not _at_ Beacon.

He'd written the letter back when Ruby's feelings were near the top of his priority list.

Now, in hindsight, he realized that, perhaps, his own survival should have been just a little higher on that list.

If it had been, maybe he wouldn't be rocketing through the sky to his certain death at that very moment.

Anyway, he had left the letter in a place that he knew Ruby would eventually look.

Not that it mattered much now. Well, at least it would serve as some explanation for why he was dead.

What other B.S. had led him to this moment?

Right, his " _plan_ ".

Despite appearances, he'd had one.

When the transport arrived yesterday, bringing all those first-year hopefuls, he was going to sneak aboard and hide, returning with the ship to the Vale docking station.

He had gone to the pilots' quarters. He had asked around. He knew when his window of opportunity would open. He knew how much time he would have before it closed.

It should have been simple, what with all those students deboarding.

All he had to do was pretend he was one of them, that he forgot something, and that he was going back to retrieve it. Then he would find a place to hide—inside of a trashcan if necessary—and he'd be back in Vale in time to attend the V.A.A. initiation, no problem.

He should have just called Ellie. She would have known exactly what to do. Hell, she'd probably get him out of the jam by herself if he was too much of a wimp to follow through.

He could see her calling every number associated with Beacon until she reached Ozpin, giving the headmaster a piece of her mind.

It was a simple solution.

But Jaune wasn't sure he could stand to come off as _that_ uncool to his younger sister. She probably wouldn't mock him for it…not much, at least. And she would keep it a secret if he asked…

But what if inwardly she started to think that he was pathetic?

Even if she never said it out loud, Jaune couldn't stand the thought of her secretly thinking of him that way.

So, he didn't call her.

He figured he'd be fine.

At the time, he thought his plan was foolproof.

Well, maybe he didn't think it was _foolproof_ , more like…solid.

And, upon further consideration, maybe he didn't _think_ it was solid.

Rather, be _hoped_ it was.

And maybe instead of—

Jaune cut off that pointless train of thought right there. Accuracy didn't matter here. He was inside his own head. He was rocketing through the sky. He was about to die.

What difference did the specific details of his idiocy make?

He had resisted the urge to rely on his sister. He had planned to board the ship.

And then everything went wrong.

Ms. Goodwitch kept an unusually close eye on him…

And Ruby exploded…

And he got screamed at by a pale girl who faintly reminded him of Ellie...

By the time he managed to so much as _see_ the transport, the massive vehicle was already sealed shut.

What was he supposed to do from there? Ask Beacon staff to unlock the ship?

Like that wouldn't come off as suspicious.

The next thing he knew, it was night time, and he was decked out in his gorgeous blue onesie.

He did his best to keep his eyes to himself that evening, attempting to ignore all the scantily clad women around him—remembering that any one of them could accidentally kill him if they decided to hit him for ogling their combat toned bodies.

He snuck out a while before the other students woke up. By the time he finished changing his clothes, he had decided on a simple two-part plan:

First, hide Ruby's letter in a place where the girl was sure to find it—and, second, get the hell out of Beacon—even if he had to wake up a pilot and beg for a ride.

Hiding the letter was simple. As was making his way to the pilot's quarters. Waking a pilot and begging her to fly him back to Vale because he had made a mistake and wanted nothing more than to be a musician—that went well too.

So, where did it all go wrong?

Well, it started to turn bad when his generous pilot asked him if he had any luggage he wanted to bring back to Vale.

If Jaune had just answered no… If he'd just done the simple smart obvious thing…

Then he'd no doubt be on his way back to the city at that very moment.

But Jaune didn't do the simple smart obvious thing.

Instead, Jaune thought about his instruments, sitting in his locker.

What if the Vale Academy of the Arts initiation involved a test? What if he had to play?

Sure, he could make do with whatever the school had available—but how lame would he look if he, a musician, arrived without a single instrument?

It was an irrational thought. But one he couldn't quite flush. He knew heading back to the lockers was a bad idea. But, honestly…

He didn't _want_ to go to the V.A.A. without his babies.

His guitar was one of his first instruments.

It wasn't his very first—that was a lame baby guitar he wouldn't be caught dead with now.

When his arms were finally long enough to circle a full guitar, his parents bought him Ole' Blue.

Ole' Blue wasn't actually blue. The instrument had earned the nickname when Jaune went through a painful jazz phase where all he ever played were depressing blues. His family came to dread seeing the guitar in his hands, since it meant that downer old-man music was only a few strums way.

Thus, they started calling the guitar Ole' Blue.

His family didn't call the guitar Ole' Blue anymore, not since Jaune had moved past his jazz…slump. But within the confines of his mind and when he was feeling a little nostalgic Jaune fell back to the old title of endearment.

Jaune's keytar was newer. It didn't have a name—well, aside from what Crystal like to call it, 'lame-ass-antique-embarrassment'. The keytar lacked much of his guitar's sentimental value.

But…

It was portable. And Jaune thought it was cool even if girls thought it was weird. And no one made them anymore so that shit was hard to find. And his had cost him an arm and a leg. Plus, VAA might have many awesome instruments available—but a keytar?

What were the chances of that?

Plus, what if he could find a keytar but not of the same quality? His keytar had all kinds of awesome features, like recording melodies and beats so that he could mix them with other instruments he was playing.

What if all he could find was a basic keytar?

For some reason, it did not even pass through Jaune's mind that he wasn't leaving his instruments for good. That he could request that Beacon ship them to him.

All he could think of was how much it would suck to leave them behind.

It was with all this in mind that Jaune made the stupid decision that, effectively, ended his life.

He told the pilot, who—by the way—was willing to fly him _straight to_ The Vale Academy of the Arts _at that very moment_ , that he had to grab a couple of things.

He managed to achieve his goal—in part. He waited for the locker area to empty before slinking in and dialing his combination. He grabbed both instruments and hoisted them over his shoulders.

All that was left was sneaking back to his pilot and getting the hell back to Vale.

Then he ran into Glynda Goodwitch.

Well, "ran into" wasn't quite accurate.

He was about fifty yards away from the main school building, dashing towards the landing bays, when something yanked his legs out from under him. He fell forward, head whistling towards pavement. His fall ended with his brow inches above the walkway. His entire prone body was, in fact, inches above the walkway.

Jaune's stomach danced in the most nauseating way.

He was levitating.

Which could only mean one thing.

He began to move, gradually floating back towards the school, gradually accelerating.

Jaune strained to look over his shoulder. Sure enough, there was Glynda, more than a hundred feet away, crop outstretched.

Jaune scrabbled against the ground futilely, desperate for something to latch onto.

Alas, it was probably for the best that he found no purchase, as Glynda might very well have ripped his fingers off in a not-so-accidental accident.

"Mr. Arc." Her voice was the exact opposite of pleasant.

Jaune wondered why she sounded so angry.

Oh right.

She hated his stupid ass.

Jaune tried to reason with her as they approached…a sheer cliff.

As his situation grew more desperate he told her and Ozpin the truth.

But Ozpin laughed in his face.

Not a chuckle. Not a chortle. Not a giggle.

A goddam full-bellied laugh.

Jaune had never felt so dead as he felt at that very moment.

Hadn't his mom always told him that 'the truth will set him free'?

If that was true, then what, pray tell, was this shit?

They put him on the launch pad. They told him to take to the sky like the other children. Jaune stepped off that launch pad like it was hot.

Finally, his panicked mind managed to come up with something that would save him from this mess.

Flashbacks. Those things Ozpin had insinuated his father suffered from after his grandfather's training. All he had to do was claim he had PTSD preventing him from being launched off a cliff at one hundred miles per hour.

Only a monster would question that.

It worked.

For a moment.

Jaune had just taken off his guitar and keytar, setting them down beside him, when Ozpin asked Goodwitch to find him an alternate route down the cliff.

And then the bitch—was he allowed to call her that?

Considering she'd just thrown him off a cliff— _after_ he'd explained that he had no aura—he figured it was probably fair.

Right.

So, then the bitch threw him.

And now he was going to die.

I*I*I

Jaune considered dying quietly.

Dying with some dignity.

Alas, dignity wasn't in his cards. The scream that tore from his mouth was wild and desperate, like a starving cub's cry for its mother. He wanted to make it stop. He wanted to accept his fate with some semblance of stoic resolve.

But his body rebelled against that wish with a blazing intensity. His body wanted him to know that he was going to die, it would probably be painful, and it was entirely his own goddam fault.

Jaune's brain already knew this, of course.

But his diaphragm, lungs, and vocal cords wanted to really drive the point home.

Jaune's panic skyrocketed as he began towards the trees. His scream discovered new decibels as it reached a fever pitch.

He had been thrown lower than the other students, but he had also been thrown faster.

Much faster.

He was thrown so fast, in fact, that he was catching up with the other huntsmen-to-be. He wouldn't quite catch them, but he'd be close behind.

And he would vanish into, roughly, the same area of leafy canopy as the others.

The only difference would be a few seconds.

And a hell of a lot more broken bones.

And dying.

A hell of a lot more dying too.

His wail was just beginning to peter out when the first tree filled his vision. It was all he could see. A wall of leaves and razor-sharp branches, reaching out to destroy his fragile body.

No aura.

No armor.

No training.

This was it. This was how he died.

Jaune's scream finally ceased. He began to suck in a draft of oxygen. His lungs expanded gratefully. Jaune focused on the wonderous sensation. After all, it was, most likely, his last breath.

His inhalation was cut off by the impact.

The collision wasn't quite what he anticipated.

He expected jagged branches, scraping off his skin. He expected painful impacts with a few tree limbs. And then he expected a thirty or forty or fifty-foot fall to his immediate demise. Although, if he was unlucky, he supposed he might land in some god-tier unfortunate position where he died slowly.

Instead of sharp branches and a series of collisions, Jaune was tackled.

Tackled.

There was no other way to describe the sensation. It was as if an athlete had intercepted his path, slamming into his back with the force of a car.

Jaune opened his eyes the moment his trajectory was altered.

The next few seconds were a confusing blend of green and red. Everything blurred together as he barreled through a tree at a strange angle, just barely avoiding thicker limbs and branches.

Jaune was too disoriented to make head or tail of what was happening.

He was rotating, that much was clear. He wasn't sure why he was rotating given a moment ago he was falling straight. It must have had something to do with whatever collided with him.

He caught a glimpse of tree trunk, approaching fast. But then he was turned around, and he could no longer see it.

Jaune waited for this next impact. It came. But once again, it was strange.

He felt the painful jolt. The suddenness of all his momentum coming to a sudden halt. But he didn't feel his spine wrap around the tree like a lasso. He didn't feel his body break like the fragile thing it was.

There was a grunt and a snapping noise and a whine, each following one after another.

Jaune figured all four sounds must have come from him, but he couldn't be certain. He hadn't felt a grunt erupt from his stomach. Or a whine build in his throat. He also didn't feel any bones snap and rupture his skin—although, he supposed, he would probably discover quite a few broken bones once his adrenaline faded—assuming he miraculously survived.

Somehow…he bounced off the tree trunk, like a ball off a wall.

Suddenly, he was rocketing forward and downward, towards another tree, this time he looked as if he would hit about fifteen feet above the ground. Again, he miraculously rotated before hitting the trunk. And again, he felt the jolt of his momentum stopping but did not feel himself actually make contact with the tree.

There was another snapping noise, followed by a scream, that Jaune was certain couldn't be his and then he was rocketing away from the tree and towards the ground.

He landed hard, air rushing from his lungs. Fortunately, most of his momentum from the fall was dispersed when he rolled nearly twenty feet. Only then did Jaune know that there was a chance that those noises weren't coming from him.

Because he felt a small body tangle with his as he twisted along the ground.

Jaune came to a stop on his back, situated inches from the base of a tree. His savior, whoever they were, dislodged from him a few feet before. Jaune tried to sit up. He tried to speak or shout or move. But he couldn't. His diaphragm was spasming in a familiar way. It had happened a few times when his father punched him in the chest during their training. The sensation was almost a comfort. He'd felt it before and it hadn't killed him.

So, maybe he wasn't about to die here either?

Jaune's eyes roved back and forth, searching for something above him on which to focus. There were canopies, exposed partitions of sky, cloud, and sun.

And there were rose petals.

Dozens of them. Drifting from the sky like large flakes of bloody snow.

Jaune watched the petals drift downwards in confusion. Each bit of rose contrasted brilliantly with the green and blue backdrop above. One landed on Jaune's face.

Then Jaune remembered what he had heard on his way down. The snapping and the whining and the scream.

He tried to sit up.

His diaphragm was still resisting.

He growled, struggling harder.

It was to no avail.

He looked to his right. Just a few feet away from him was Ruby Rose.

Suddenly, Jaune's heart was beating in his skull.

The girl's cape was twisted around her awkwardly. Her eyes were closed, her limbs were limp.

And her body was still.

I*I*I

Jaune was moving long before his body remembered how to breathe. Sitting up was a pain and would take too long in his current condition, so instead he rolled.

He expected to experience some searing pain as he rolled towards Ruby. Since he hadn't been able to sit up he hadn't been able to get a good look at himself—for all he knew he could have ribs sticking out of his sides.

As it would turn out, rolling towards Ruby wasn't quite as painful as he expected it to be. There was some soreness, enough to make him wince, but, considering what he had just been through, it wasn't all that bad.

Jaune stopped rolling when he was only a few inches away from the huntress.

She was breathing.

Thank every god and goddess above. She was freaking breathing.

The relief that flooded through him seemed to ease tensing diaphragm, allowing him to follow Ruby's example and suck in a bit of air himself.

She was breathing, which was good. But she wasn't moving. And her eyes were closed. Which meant there was still something wrong.

Did she hit her head on their way down? Did she have a concussion? Should he move her?

"Ruby?" His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke her name. "Ruby, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

Jaune inwardly berated himself for asking the girl such an asinine question. Of course, she wasn't okay. She was unconscious in the middle of a forest after attempting to catch a boy twice her size who was moving as fast as a car.

What was next? Did he scream for help? He certainly needed some.

But…

Jaune managed to prop himself up on his forearms and took a look-around. They were in a bit of a clearing, if one could call it that. They were thoroughly surrounded by trees and underbrush.

There was only one place this could be.

The Emerald Forest.

A wilderness situated just outside of Beacon, home to plenty of Grimm. Jaune swallowed the word "help" before he could shout it.

He would assess Ruby's situation first. If she was in dire need of medical assistance he would risk screaming. If not, he'd stay quiet.

He couldn't afford to alert Grimm to their presence unless absolutely necessary.

"Ruby…?" He reached for her, hoping to brush away some of the hair obscuring her face.

The girl's silver eyes flew open the moment he touched her forehead.

"Ruby!" he exclaimed.

"Ugh," she moaned. Her voice was strained with obvious pain, but the selfless girl still managed to train her concern on Jaune rather than herself. "Jaune, are you alright?"

"I'm fine Ruby," said Jaune hurriedly.

He didn't deserve that question. He didn't deserve the flash of a smile that passed over Ruby's lips when she heard his response.

"Let's focus on you." Jaune knew she was in pain. But he needed her to tell him where, so he could assess how he could help.

"I found your letter," said Ruby. "I kind of thought it was a joke. But then you weren't at initiation, so I thought, 'whoa' maybe he was serious. Then I saw you coming in, screaming like that and I thought, there's no way you'd be falling out of the sky if you didn't have your aura unlocked. If you weren't a huntsman. And maybe the whole letter thing was just a lie. But, then I realize I couldn't take the risk. I mean, what if I didn't do anything and then you…" She trailed off.

Jaune listened to Ruby speak with growing horror.

This was his fault.

Obviously.

A minute ago, all he could think about was checking to make sure Ruby wasn't on death's door. But now that she was talking. Now that he had the relief of hearing her voice…

The guilt hit him hard.

She was still speaking to him. He was vaguely aware of that. But he couldn't focus enough to hear or understand the words that she was saying. His thoughts were drowning her out, clamoring for his attention.

He should have called Ellie. He should have approached the headmaster and headmistress of Beacon himself, on his own time—not waited until the last possible moment when there was no chance of them believing him.

"Jaune?"

It was his name that pulled him out of his remorse ridden daze.

Ruby's eyes were watery, on the verge of tears even, but they were looking at him expectantly. She must have asked him a question.

"Sorry, I was…" Jaune briefly searched for the coolest possible word choice before realizing it was far past time to drop the façade. "…freaking out. Hard. What did you say?"

"I was asking if the whole I-don't-have-any-aura and I'm-not-a-huntsman thing was a joke."

"No!" replied Jaune vehemently, appalled by the thought. He finished in a quieter voice. "No, it wasn't a joke."

"Thank goodness," said Ruby, exhaling a breath that Jaune had not been aware she was holding. "I was worried I just ruined initiation for you because I was too dumb to get a stupid joke."

She was worried she had ruined initiation for him?

Jaune allowed the ridiculousness of that concern to flood him for a moment. She'd just fallen out of the sky and taken some unknown injuries that had her on the brink of sobbing—and she had done all of that because of a _letter_ he had left for her. Now she was worried that _he_ would be upset if that letter was a fake?

Jaune sat up. He was about to comment on the absurdity that was pouring from Ruby's magnificent mouth, when a crashing noise distracted him from above. He watched his keytar and guitar fall from the sky, following a similar trajectory to the one he would have taken if not for Ruby's intervention. His keytar received the instant death Jaune had expected for himself. It smashed into a tree trunk and then plummeted towards the ground.

Jaune didn't need to investigate to know his keytar was destroyed. It sounded as if it was already in pieces when it hit the forest floor a few feet away.

Giving him his "weapons" before throwing him into a Grimm infested forest had only been an afterthought for Glynda Goddam Goodwitch.

Go figure.

Ole' Blue had a bit more luck than the keytar.

Blue's case strap got tangled in the tree's higher branches before the instrument could slam into the trunk. Momentum mostly dispelled, the device fell vertically, with branches halting its plummet every few seconds.

Jaune didn't realize the instrument was directly above him until it was a few seconds away from hitting him on the head. He scooted backwards a foot and allowed the device to fall into his waiting arms.

Somehow, the Blue was in one piece. Or, at least, he seemed to be, as much as Jaune could tell via a quick feel up through the soft case.

He didn't have time to investigate more.

Ruby's welfare was his main priority. Not his guitar. He set Ole' Blue to the side and refocused his attention on Ruby.

"Where are you hurt?" asked Jaune.

"I-I'm fine," replied Ruby hesitantly. "I-is that not a weapon?"

She couldn't even meet his eyes when she lied. And her attempt to change the topic was weak at best.

"You're not fine," said Jaune. "It's obvious you're about to cry. Besides, I heard you scream on our way down. And I heard…stuff breaking."

"Yeah," said Ruby. She closed her eyes, tears finally eked out of her shut eyelids. "I guess those were my legs."

Jaune's gaze slid down Ruby's small body, stopping at her stocking covered legs.

What he saw there made him feel queasy.

Bone jutted from both limbs.

Her left leg looked the best. Although, that wasn't saying much. At least the bone hadn't managed to stab through her skin on this limb, although the outline of the damage was still clear.

Her right leg was mangled in a similar fashion, only on this one, the bone had cleared her skin. Blood dripped down her leg. Her broken tibia was dyed a ghastly shade of crimson.

"Holy shit," Jaune whispered, horrified, but unable to look away.

His breathing sped up.

Was he about to hyperventilate?

He hoped he wasn't about to hyperventilate.

"Is it bad?" asked Ruby.

Jaune might not have been able to pull his eyes away from Ruby's injuries if it wasn't for the fear lacing her small voice.

What the hell was he doing? Acting like he was the one dealing with shit? He was looking at broken legs. Ruby was experiencing them. She didn't need him having a panic attack while she fought through excruciating pain.

He met Ruby's eyes with as much confidence as he could muster. "Not too bad."

"Really?" Ruby's eyes narrowed as she tried to sit up and see for herself. "They feel bad."

Jaune was quick to gently push Ruby back down. "Wait a second."

Ruby looked at him questioningly.

Jaune wished he had an answer for whatever she was asking him.

But what did he know about broken limbs?

He had sort-of broken his arm once. But that was just a hairline fracture and he'd only been a scroll-call away from the nearest doctor.

His father had talked to him once about one of his bad bone breaks, hadn't he?

He'd fallen during one of Grandpa's more intense training sessions and badly broken his arm.

Grandpa had refused to end the training for his son's "measly" injury. And by the time Matthias was delivered to a doctor his aura had already started to heal his injury in the wrong position.

So, the doctor had to rebreak the bone.

The doctor explained that the reason she had to recreate the injury was because the bone wasn't set immediately. Aura naturally compensated for small misalignments in broken bones. But larger misalignments…

"Ruby," began Jaune as calmly as he could. "You've broken both your legs."

Ruby whimpered.

It didn't matter which of his sisters she might have sounded like. The noise broke Jaune's heart.

He continued regardless. "Your aura will help patch you up. But I have to push the bones back into place."

Ruby whimpered again. "Shouldn't a doctor do that?"

"Yeah," said Jaune, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I'll get you to one as soon as I can, I promise. But your aura is already starting to heal you. And if I don't set the bones, when we get to a doctor, they'll have to break them again."

Ruby's third whimper made Jaune wish he hadn't been stupid enough to fall in love with music and had instead focused on medicine.

And he hadn't even touched her injuries yet.

Damn it.

Jaune crawled to her legs. He immediately noticed that her boots were putting pressure on her injuries. He'd need to get those off quickly. He pulled his hoodie over his head and handed it to Ruby.

The girl looked confused. She craned her neck until she could see Jaune. "What's this for?"

Jaune couldn't meet her eyes. "To bite down on, when I set the bones. I need to take off your shoes first and I'm going to be careful, but if it hurts I thought you might want to bite on that instead of scream because…well…" Jaune motioned around. "Grimm."

Ruby stared at Jaune and then his hoodie. Then she brought it to her face. "Thanks."

Jaune began working on Ruby's boot. He noticed she wasn't biting down, so he figured the pain must not have been unbearable yet. Still, her chest was heaving with sobs, she was desperately trying to keep inside.

"Would you like to talk?" asked Jaune, in a bid to distract her from her misery. "I need to focus on what I'm doing but, you could just…tell me stuff…if it'll help distract you…" He trailed off, not quite sure what he was suggesting.

Gently, he eased one of her boots off.

"I think I screwed up catching you," began Ruby. "I should have taken us both up, above the clearing, then dropped straight down, slowing our fall with Crescent Rose."

Jaune resisted the urge to interrupt her as he began loosening her other shoe. When he'd asked her if she wanted to talk, to distract herself, he hadn't been expecting her to talk about how she broke her legs in the first place.

Still, if it was working, and her mind was off her legs, he certainly wasn't going to stop her.

"I'm such an idiot. I didn't think it through. I figured I could grab you, flip us around, and use my semblance to push off some trees and crash land us. I didn't even think about how fast we would be going…or how much our combined weights would be…I grabbed you from behind and just…added my momentum to yours—"

Jaune cut Ruby off before the girl started wailing out of shame rather than pain. "Ruby, you saved my life. What you did was insane and amazing. And everything that happened was my fault. Now, I won't be able to do what I have to do down here if you keep insulting one of my favorite people in the world. So, why don't you talk about something else?"

Ruby quieted for a moment.

Ha!

He'd caught her off-guard with that compliment, hadn't he?

She really was just like Cece.

He eased her second boot off.

She spoke as soon as he set the boot to the side. "Jaune?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to bite down now."

Her voice sounded as small as the whimpers from earlier.

"Okay," he replied.

After a few seconds of a pause, she spoke again. "Jaune?"

"Yes?"

"You said in your letter that you're a musician, right?"

"Yep." He tore her stocking and pulled the tattered edges away from the exposed bone. Didn't want to accidently push the material inside her.

"Will you sing?"

Jaune looked up at that. It wasn't the simplest request, asking him to sing as he set her bones. The two activities felt nearly incompatible.

But there was no denying that he certainly owed it to her to try.

"Okay."

Ruby gave him a terse nod. She clamped down on his hood.

Jaune considered what he should sing. It would be nice to give Ruby something cheerful and upbeat, something that would, potentially, raise her spirits. But it also didn't feel appropriate, and he wasn't sure he could real imbue a happy song with any real energy and jubilance.

He settled on something a little more mellow. It was less a song than a chant but with an adjusted melody he knew the lyrics could be hauntingly beautiful.

 _From my fate I run_

 _From the way I run_

 _From my hate I run_

 _From the day I run_

Ruby seemed to relax as he sung. That was good. He didn't know if it would help her any with the pain. But at least she wouldn't be tense in the seconds leading up to it.

Now, if only the Grimm would keep clear long enough for the two of them to get to safety, then maybe this day wouldn't be so bad after all.

Jaune placed both hands gently on the bone straining against Ruby's skin. He chose to start with Ruby's slightly less injured leg.

He continued to sing.

 _From the pain I run_

 _From my gate I run_

 _From the shame I run_

 _From my name I run_

Jaune took a deep breath, preparing for the next stanza.

And he shoved Ruby's leg.

Hard.

I*I*I

Pyrrha Nikos had decided to let the chips fall where they may.

Sure, with her semblance, skill, and endurance she could probably have chosen her partner for the next four years from the students flying beside her after their launch.

She could probably have landed and plucked said "chosen" student from the sky with a well-timed javelin throw and arrived at their location only a few minutes later.

But!

She had decided to let the chips fall where they may.

No manipulation. No extra thought.

The first student she met the eyes of, that was her partner.

No complaints. No takebacks.

The first student she met the eyes of…

That was the plan.

Well, it _was_ the plan.

Pyrrha didn't realize the plan had changed until she was already carefully backing out of the clearing she had just entered.

It was very much the opposite of letting the chips fall where they may.

About thirty feet in front of the champion was one Weiss Schnee. The heiress's back was turned, and she wasn't yet aware of Pyrrha's presence.

Pyrrha still wanted the chips to fall where they may.

But she didn't want them to fall this way. She wanted the chips to fall where they may some other way.

So long as the chips put her on a normal team with normal people she'd accept the way they fell.

It would be nice if those people didn't know who she was or what she could do, but she knew that was unlikely.

The outcome that she _had_ to avoid was being placed on a team with someone who would try to use her. Being idolized, she could put up with, albeit, unhappily.

But being treated as a tool?

No.

She wasn't letting anything like that happen to her again.

She may never find people who would treat her like a normal girl. But she could at least avoid those who only see her as an ace up their sleeve.

And if there was anyone in this forest she knew with some measure of certainty would treat her like a tool, it was the heiress to a multi-billion lien corporation.

She took another gentle step backwards. She was almost there. Almost behind cover.

Just a little more.

Her foot landed on a twig.

The snapping noise was small. Tiny even.

It was enough.

Weiss whirled, drawing her blade. Her gaze met Pyrrha's. The look of triumph in those blue eyes made Pyrrha's heart plummet. It was the same way her manager and endorsers looked at her, like a trophy to be won, like a cow to be milked.

"Pyrrha!" she exclaimed happily.

I*I*I

Weiss's landing was smooth.

Her glyphs allowing her to control her descent with precision. She touched down in the dead center of a small clearing between the trees.

She wasn't even scraped by a branch on her way down.

She exhaled deeply as she glanced around the woods. She needed a plan. The objective here was obvious enough, accomplish a pseudo-recovery mission and form your team along the way.

The method of team-selection seemed almost entirely random which, while at first glance seemed absurd, had a certain fairness about it.

But Weiss wasn't interested in "fairness".

If she didn't play her cards right here she could wind up with any number of morons on her team.

She hadn't spotted that many promising students, so she wasn't sure what her full team roster would look like, but she knew who she wanted for a partner.

Pyrrha Nikos.

The two of them would make perfect partners. They'd decimate every other pair in the school.

Not to mention such an affiliation would be met with approval by her father and sister.

And then there was the added benefit that Pyrrha was raised in the spotlight, just like Weiss. No doubt she too would understand that fame and money and adulation weren't as great as everyone else seemed to believe.

The question was, how would she ensure that she found Pyrrha first?

The champion had dropped into the trees a few seconds before Weiss—Weiss hadn't seen when precisely. So, she was, more likely than not, somewhere behind her. But was she directly behind? Or was she behind and to the east? Or, perhaps to the west?

Weiss swore under her breath. Finding her in this damn forest was a hard-enough prospect. Finding her before anyone else?

Was it even possible?

A branch broke behind her.

Weiss spun, whipping out Myrtenaster.

Her eyes widened.

"Pyrrha!"

A wave of pleasure ran down Weiss's spine as she stared at the redhead. She couldn't hold back the smirk that was working its way across her mouth.

One moment she was wondering how she could possibly find Pyrrha. And the next the world-class fighter was before her.

Weiss didn't put much stock in signs from some higher power. But if they did exist, then this was, no doubt, a _very_ good one.

Weiss began to speak, "it appears you and I are—"

Pyrrha's emerald eyes locked onto something beyond the heiress and she raised a trembling finger.

Weiss pirouetted with a dancer's grace, weapon ready for the threat that was approaching her from behind.

Nothing.

No Grimm.

No wild animal.

No White Fang assassin.

Just the same foliage and vegetation she'd been observing earlier.

Odd.

Weiss turned back to Pyrrha, a question ready on her lips.

But Pyrrha was gone.

It took Weiss a moment to realize what had just happened. Pyrrha had tricked her and ran.

But why?

Why would she run?

Weiss wracked her mind for a painful two seconds before realizing the obvious.

Pyrrha was testing her.

Weiss already knew that she and Pyrrha would do amazing incredible things together. But Pyrrha, lacking a Schnee's foresight, had no idea what an incredible pair they would make. She had no notion of how…delightfully unstoppable they would be.

So, having spotted Weiss, and acknowledged her, Pyrrha had issued a challenge. A test, to prove Weiss's mettle and worthiness.

Now, from most children attending Beacon, an issued challenge would have resulted in her laughing in their face. After all, what did she have to prove to the riffraff?

But from someone as successful and renowned as Pyrrha…

Weiss tensed, summoning a white glyph beneath her.

So, the challenge was to catch her…

What constituted "catching" her?

Eye contact?

A touch?

A grab?

Hm.

The third would incorporate the other two.

Very well Nikos.

Challenge accepted.

I*I*I

Pyrrha felt bad.

She really did.

Not bad enough to turn around or anything.

But she still felt bad.

She didn't want to be paired with Weiss but that didn't mean the girl deserved to feel the sting of such an obvious and brutal rejection. They had made eye contact. Based on Ozpin's…odd system, the two really should be partners.

Well, it was too late to change that now.

Pyrrha would run into someone else, as would Weiss. Sure, she had burned a bridge to a potential friend, and she felt horrible about that fact…but in the end, today was all about finding her partner, her team. The people who would be with her twenty-four seven, for the next four years.

And possibly beyond that as well.

She'd be a better person tomorrow, and every day following. For now, her future depended on her being just a little bit selfish.

She slowed her run, taking stock of where she was.

What direction should she head now?

She'd ran for about ten minutes, which gave her a decent idea of how far she had gone, but she wasn't certain where she was in relation to where she had landed.

In which direction waited her precious partner and future best friend?

"Pyrr-ha!"

The tone…

The inflection…

The way Pyrrha's name was part-sung and part-screamed.

It sent a chill down Pyrrha's spine.

The voice was recognizable. It belonged to Weiss. But there was a creepy mixture of deathly seriousness and childlike playfulness to it—a sonant concoction that the heiress had lacked just moments before.

She didn't sound that close, but she didn't sound that far either. Pyrrha glanced behind her.

Was Weiss chasing her?

Surely, she would see the futility in that. Between Pyrrha's stamina and her longer stride there was no way Weiss would be able to catch up with—

A blur of white rocketed towards her, like a human arrow launched from a giant bow. Only Pyrrha's years of experience in the arena allowed her to dip backwards, bending until her head nearly touched the ground, narrowly evading the girl sized projectile.

Weiss flew over her, landed, and slid a few feet.

Pyrrha straightened quickly, wary of another attack.

Surprisingly, Weiss didn't have her weapon drawn, nor even her fists raised.

Pyrrha relaxed a bit, confused by the sprinter stance Weiss adopted. Was she trying to attack her or not?

"You can try to run Pyrrha, but I _shall_ catch you."

"Catch me…?" repeated Pyrrha, a bit confused and a bit scared.

Weiss's expression was competitive and predatorial.

The heiress chose to interpret Pyrrha's muttered question as a statement. "I shall."

"Wait—" began Pyrrha, trying to figure out what, exactly, was happening.

Weiss interrupted her by drawing Myrtenaster. She deliberately pointed the rapier towards the ground, one white glyph forming beneath her and another behind her. "Don't hold back on my account partner. The chase accounts for most of the fun."

Pyrrha stared into Weiss's wide blazing blue eyes. And she was struck with the realization that, whether she liked it or not, she was probably looking into the eyes of her partner. It was probably best for her to just accept this fact and move—

Pyrrha's train of thought was derailed as Weiss launched herself towards her. Pyrrha threw herself to the side and into a roll.

It wasn't an attack, per say.

More like an attempted tackle.

Still, even if it seemed like Weiss was only trying to grab her, something inside Pyrrha rebelled at the idea of being caught.

That would be like losing, wouldn't it?

Losing wasn't something she did.

Not regularly, at least.

So Pyrrha, still not quite certain why, took off at a sprint.

Weiss was never far behind.

I*I*I

The pain was overwhelming.

Ruby screamed. Her teeth were clenched so hard she was sure she would have bit off her tongue if Jaune hadn't thought to give her his hoody.

The garment managed to stymy much of her scream. But it couldn't stop it entirely.

Not that the scream mattered much. Sure, Grimm could be attracted by sound. But they could feel negativity from much further away. The pain she was experiencing at that very moment was several times more likely to attract the attention of nearby Grimm, than any noise she could make.

Jaune kept singing as he pushed, not letting up for even a moment.

Ruby was grateful for what little respite his voice could give her. He sounded amazing. Almost…angelic.

Her head tilted to the side as Jaune's hands came off her shin.

She opened her eyes.

That's when she saw them.

Red eyes.

A pair of them.

Staring at her and Jaune from a bush on the edge of the clearing.

Ruby panicked.

A Grimm had found them.

Her legs were broken. Crescent Rose was pinned awkwardly under her back. And Jaune was a civilian.

And now a Grimm had found them.

Ruby's mind went into hyperdrive.

She didn't know what the creature was waiting for, but she knew from that distance it could be upon them in a matter of seconds. There was no telling what it was. Probably something low level, like a Boarbatusk or a Beowolf.

But would the level of the Grimm even matter when she was in this state? And when Jaune wasn't a huntsman?

Ruby shifted slowly. If she could get Crescent Rose out from under her, extend it, and level her rifle, perhaps she could take a shot as the beast charged. Or, if she was lucky, she could fire before it charged, perhaps giving her a chance to take two shots.

Ruby's shifting and planning ended abruptly when Jaune's hands suddenly pushed down on her other leg. The pain, somehow, was even worse than the last time. She screamed past the fabric in her mouth. Her eyes squeezed shut and tears flow down her cheeks.

Jaune continued to sing throughout it all.

Ruby was, once again, grateful for his voice.

It was like an anchor, fixing her securely in reality. If she was going to die here, at least she would die with a beautiful soundtrack.

Wait.

What!?

She couldn't die here!

Ruby's eyes flew open.

The red eyes were gone.

Did that mean the Grimm was somewhere in the clearing? She looked around frantically, straining her ears for the sound of snapping twigs or rustling leaves.

Nothing.

Had she just imagined those glaring red eyes? Was the pain making her see things?

She turned back to Jaune, to ask if he had seen anything. She stopped short when Jaune peeled off his shirt, revealing his toned chest.

He didn't have anything she hadn't seen before. And she'd gone to a combat school, so she'd seen boys with more muscle and better definition than Jaune.

She was just surprised that he was suddenly stripping.

"You might want to keep biting for this," said Jaune. With a bit of effort, he began tearing his shirt. "I need to bandage your leg." Jaune lightly touched the leg he intended to bandage.

Ruby could feel how tender and careful Jaune was being from that light touch. It made her feel…weird. She was getting bandaged up. How gently Jaune touched her leg really should not have left much of an impression. But, god, for some reason it did.

It didn't take Jaune long to finish what little he could do for Ruby's injury. He stopped singing shortly before this point, instead, he hummed the last few bits of his song in between speaking.

Ruby was a little resistant at first, to the idea of riding on Jaune's back. After all, he was a civvy in a Grimm infested forest, unarmed. He didn't exactly need anyone else slowing him down.

She told him he could go get help, leave her there and send back anyone he could find. Jaune refused her offer emphatically.

She was glad when he donned his hoodie. She had been worried that she would be riding him bareback, which would have been…awkward.

It was still embarrassing to see the large damp spot on Jaune's hood, knowing that was her saliva. Although Jaune seemed entirely unbothered by it.

Getting onto Jaune's back from a seated position, without jostling her fragile legs, was a challenge unto itself. Eventually, however, she was aboard her blonde steed. Her arms were looped loosely around his neck. A tight hold on him was rendered unnecessary by his grip on her thighs.

Jaune attempted to leave his guitar behind in the clearing. Ruby insisted she be allowed to carry it.

Jaune was reluctant, to say the least.

"You know," Ruby joked. "Technically, you'll still be carrying it, since you'll be carrying me."

Jaune smiled at that. After a few more seconds of thought Jaune agreed, albeit reluctantly.

As they left the clearing Ruby tried to keep herself focused.

She wanted to submerge herself in self-loathing and pity, she wanted to dwell on her feeling of uselessness and how much she hated the sensation.

She wanted to repeat the mantra that she would never allow herself to be in a compromising position like this ever again.

But unfortunately, contrary to those feelings and that mantra _and_ the fact that her initial adrenaline burst was wearing off and the pain in her legs was increasing…

She kind of enjoyed riding on Jaune's back.

And that was a fact to ignore.

Ruby was drawn out of her thoughts by a noise. It sounded like a growl. It sounded like it came from directly behind them.

"Did you hear that?" she asked.

"Hear what?" said Jaune.

This time the growl was louder.

"That!" said Ruby.

Her comment proved unnecessary, because Jaune was already running.

I*I*I

"Where is he?" asked Glynda.

Ozpin knew she was speaking to herself, but he couldn't resist responding.

"Who?" asked Ozpin, unnecessarily.

"The Arc," replied Glynda. "I haven't seen him."

Ozpin shrugged. "Perhaps he has flown directly to the ruins. Or teleported. Or used some other hitherto never-before-seen broken Arc semblance."

Glynda didn't smile or look up from the screen. "I haven't seen Ruby Rose either."

Oh? Ozpin flitted through several camera feeds and mentally reviewed the last few minutes. Glynda was right, they hadn't seen Ruby.

"Perhaps Mister Arc has found our initiation boring and he and Miss Rose have excused themselves to a more private area. Hm?"

It was a joke.

It was clearly a joke.

Glynda knew it was a joke.

Ozpin knew Glynda knew it was a joke.

But that didn't matter.

As soon as Ozpin finished speaking he knew that he had just made a mistake. A small, tiny, microscopic mistake that—like a biological weapon of mass destruction—was going to screw him and everyone else over.

The cliff ledge that they stood upon was already groaning, as if it was suddenly bearing the weight of a herd of Goliath. Glynda's crop was already in her white knuckled grip.

When Glynda went postal it was bad. It was always bad.

He and those poor, innocent children would be the target. And no one would survive—At least not psychologically or emotionally.

He needed to clean this up.

" _I_ was actually going to suggest we give him a private assessment, so he didn't screw up initiation for everyone else. But then _you_ threw him in with the other children before I could say as much."

" _You_ were going to offer to do _more_ work?" questioned Glynda, without an ounce of belief in her voice.

The idea was ludicrous. But Ozpin nodded along. "Not just for Jaune's sake, mind you, but for the sake of the other students as well. I figured a huntsman of his caliber could afford to take a very lackadaisical approach to initiation. Such an attitude could be infectious, especially for a young impressionable girl."

"Didn't you tell me to find an alternate route into the woods for him?" said Glynda.

"I was merely thinking aloud," replied Ozpin smoothly.

"Are you implying that whatever goes wrong during this initiation is my fault?" asked Goodwitch.

"Of course not," said Ozpin hurriedly. "A million things can go wrong during initiation. And they always do. You introduced Jaune Arc into the mix—not every little variable that can go wrong on its own."

Implied in that statement was that anything that went wrong _involving_ Jaune were mostly her fault.

Glynda scowled at him, snatching the tablet from Ozpin's hands.

Ozpin edged away from his infuriated coworker. Fortunately, her anger was no longer directed at him, just Jaune and herself.

Mission accomplished. Mess cleaned. Spectacular work.

After a few seconds of silence Glynda spoke. "I still haven't seen either of them. They're together. And they aren't moving. And they aren't in view of any cameras."

Ozpin watched a web of cracks fan out along his tablet's screen, starting from the spot where Glynda was gripping the device.

He scooted away from her a bit more. He had, after all, just witnessed her hurl a child off a cliff…

It was good that her abuse was directed at Jaune but if he got too close to her in this state he could suffer a similar fate as a sort of…stand-in for the Arc.

He would have preferred to stand a bare minimum of ten feet away from a fuming Glynda. But he couldn't bring himself to stray that far. He was too interested in what was happening on that tablet screen.

Before Glynda had distracted him with this whole, what-happened-to-the-fifteen-year-old-girl-we-threw-into-a-forest-full-of-man-eating-monsters BS, he'd been watching the interaction between the Mistralian champion fighter and the Schnee girl.

 _That_ was…well, it was something.

He saw them make eye contact in the clearing.

That should have been that, instant platonic life-partners for life.

But then the Mistralian took off like a rocket. And the Schnee chased her.

When she caught up, Ozpin assumed they'd have a conversation or something, but no, they went right back to running and chasing.

He had been thoroughly enjoying those two's performance, until the Glynda went off like a bomb.

What business was it of theirs if this particular Arc felt comfortable deflowering a maiden in the midst of a Grimm filled forest?

If the boy had that kind of confidence it probably arose from the knowledge that he was perfectly safe—from the Grimm, to be specific.

So, there was no need to worry about their bodily safety—from the Grim, to, once again, be specific.

Ruby was fifteen and Jaune was seventeen. Ruby had spent some time in combat school. And Jaune had underwent Rictus's training. No matter what happened in that forest both knew how to stay safe—from the Grim of course—just to be clear.

Ozpin's bobbled the tablet when Glynda tossed it to him.

"I'm going in."

Ozpin blinked. "What?"

Glynda stepped towards the cliff's ledge. "I said, I'm going in."

Yes, Ozpin had heard her, he just couldn't quite believe what he had heard.

When was the last time Glynda had gotten involved in the initiation process?

As far as he could remember, it had only happened twice over the years. Both times were caused by a powerful Grimm appearing.

Now she just wanted to go hunt down an Arc.

And who was he to stop her?

Her boss?

Yes.

But only in the most abstractly technical sense.

She would probably terrorize the initiators…

But stopping her would require good will towards his students. And he was out of coffee so…

Ozpin glanced down at his fractured tablet. "Glynda, they have appeared.".

Glynda was by his side in an instant. Jaune and Ruby moved into and out of the frame quickly but not before Glynda spotted them.

"Why is she on his back?" she asked, tone suspicious.

Ozpin shrugged.

Who knew? That was just young love, right?

I*I*I

"Just put me down!" Ruby screamed.

"Shut the hell up!" panted Jaune, tearing through underbrush.

Ruby was sweet. She was kind. And she was self-sacrificial. All attributes that Jaune thought he liked.

But the moment the first Grimm came tearing after them and she started insisting that he leave her behind and save himself her selflessness got old quick.

What kind of person did she think he was?

He wanted to live, yes, quite a bit. But did she think he would be able to live with himself if he left her behind as Grimm bait? After she'd broken her legs _saving him_?

There were three big Grimm chasing them now. Jaune dared not turn around, but he could hear them, snarling behind him, waiting for him to get tired or make a mistake. Thank god his father was right in his assessment of Jaune's only suitably huntsman like attribute.

Endurance.

His father had told him that having endurance alone would only make him a sturdier punching bag for his opponent.

Next time he spoke with him— _If_ he spoke with him— _If_ he ever spoke with anyone ever again, he'd have to let him know that endurance also made running for his life a viable option too.

"You're a civilian! I'm a huntress! It's my job to protect you!" Ruby squirmed against his back as she spoke.

"I swear to god Ruby," said Jaune, between deep breaths. "If I drop you…I will stop and pick you up…and then we'll both be dead."

Ruby stopped moving, instead wailing into his ear, "Why did you even come here!?"

Now that. That was a fair question.

"I told them I'm not a huntsman…I told them I don't have aura…but that…" Jaune wondered if there was a more appropriate word here. No, this one would do just fine. "...that _bitch_ threw me out here."

"She threw you!?" Ruby exclaimed.

Jaune nodded. He wasn't sure if Ruby could see the motion, but he decided to focus on his breathing rather than reply verbally.

"I wish I had paid more attention in aura manipulation," Ruby muttered.

"Why?" gasped Jaune.

"Because there's no way you're going to survive out here without your aura unlocked."

Jaune could hear Ruby turning to look over her shoulder.

"We need to find someone who can unlock it."

Jaune considered that. Without aura, he was as good as dead. A strong argument for unlocking it the first chance he got—if he wasn't Beowolf lunch in the next ten seconds.

But also, the moment he unlocked his aura, that wasn't just a step away from being a musician…

That was a mile away from being a civilian.

Well, it was a moot issue for now.

Ruby couldn't unlock his aura. And they were both probably going to be torn to shreds in the next few seconds anyway so—

Jaune's thoughts hit a brick wall.

So, did his body.

A brick wall made of gold, green, and redhead.

 **So, yes, I know. Ruby breaking her legs, not a very light fun happy thing. But no one ever said this is one of those fics without consequences.**

 **Sometimes some serious stuff has to happen to move the plot along. Pure absurdism is more of Port Chronicles speed. Which I will be updating very soon. Like a few days from now.**

 **The moment Glynda threw Jaune off that cliff he was either going to be maimed and dead, or someone was going to have to go out of their way to save him. Ruby went out of her way to save him.**

 **Sorry if some of this chapter felt condensed, specifically that first part where Jaune is dwelling on what brought him to this point. My first draft of this I wrote all that out. And it was just a really boring 10,000 word chapter that ended with Jaune in the same spot as he began, flying through the air.**

 **I decided to rewrite and condense all that, so the chapter has some actual movement. That, unfortunately, meant I had to do a little bit of telling and not showing this time around—to my eternal shame.**

 **Yeah, yeah. I'm glad to be back.**

 **Content Beta'd by MysteryBeta,**

 **Copy edited by No One (So forgive the Grammar and stuff please?)**

 **Next update: June 20th (probably).**

 **My thingy is: "pat r eon . com (forward slash) vronsurd".**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sup,**

 **Pa tre on: "Pa t r eon dotcomforward-slash vronsurd"**

 **Seriously, how did this chapter turn out so massive?**

 **I blame all the teary messages I get begging me not to abandon these fics.**

 **I was never planning too. I mean six months of silence I'm sure is pretty sketchy but…**

 **Well.**

 **Lol.**

 **It's sketchy.**

 **Then I feel like I owe people something meaty then meaty turns into ridiculous.**

 **Six chapters this length equals a full-length novel.**

 **Ridiculous.**

 **Anyway,**

 **So, I got a few comments about Glynda's character and about Ruby's injuries last chapter, which I posted ummm… an indeterminate length of time back. I just wanted to real quick address those things.**

 **First, I'll address Glynda. Her general distrust and hate for Jaune isn't because of anything Jaune has done and it's not _because_ she thinks he wants to get with Ruby.**

 **Arcs and Glynda simply have a bad history.**

 **A really bad one.**

 **Which will be revealed soon.**

 **Not this chapter but, eventually.**

 **I think once you see it you'll be like, oh, okay. This makes a lot more sense.**

 **Also, Glynda, absolutely under no circumstances believed Jaune was aura-less.**

 **Should she have listened to him?**

 **Yes.**

 **But I'll soon reveal why she's a bit OOC and obnoxious. Her past is intermingled with the Arcs which makes her a little…different from canon.**

 **As for whether attempting to catch Jaune and slamming into a tree would break Ruby's legs I'll bore you with the math I did (I know, I know—someone who writes and maths? It's like being a Jedi and a Sith.)**

 **First, I'll assume Jaune is between 170-180 pounds—which given that he's over 6 foot and not super skinny and wearing armor is reasonable—second I'll assume that Jaune was flying at about one-hundred miles-per-hour—not an unrealistic number considering how strong Glynda is. I'll assume Ruby is 100 pounds and that Crescent Rose is about 20. Force is equal to mass times acceleration—or in this case, mass times deceleration. Jaune Ruby and Crescent Rose have a combined mass of about 300 pounds. Jaune was moving at one hundred miles-per hour. Let's say Ruby hit him at about one-twenty since he passed her than she had to accelerate to him. We'll assume she was moving on the same trajectory as him to their force adds simply. Based off their disparate masses and velocities Jaune's body speeds up and Ruby's slows down to about 112 miles per hour.**

 **Ruby doesn't have the chance to decelerate before encountering the tree. The weight and force of the collision is entirely on her legs. She goes from 112 miles per hour to zero to pushing off in another direction in, approximately, less than a quarter of a second.**

 **First, I need to go metric.**

 **Jaune = 80 kg**

 **Ruby = 45 kg**

 **Crescent Rose = 9 kg**

 **Total weight=136kg**

 **Velocity = 112 mph- 180 km per hour - 50 meters per second**

 **Time in which speed change occurred (duration of impact) = 0.2 second**

 **Impact Force = (2*m*v divided by duration of impact)**

 **Impact force = 68,000 Newtons.**

 **This is the impact force which Ruby would have hit the tree if she just got smashed. But she also sprung off in the same instant, which makes this an elastic collision.**

 **Meaning that the force of the collision is affected by rebound velocity as well.**

 **So, assuming, Ruby springs off the tree at, say, 130 km per hour, we add that into the velocity of our original equation. (2*m*(50_36) divided by duration of impact)**

 **This gives us an impact force of 116,960 Newtons.**

 **Generally speaking, it takes about 4000 Newtons of force to break the leg of an adult male. More or less, depending on angle and bone density.**

 **Now, obviously, all that force won't be concentrated on Ruby's shins, she'll absorb it with her knees, quads, and aura as well.**

 **But Ruby is still a fifteen-year-old girl.**

 **Considering she hit the tree with 29 times the force required to break an adult male's leg…**

 **Well, I think broken legs is a fair assumption–even with aura.**

 **Death might have been a fair assumption too—but wouldn't that have been a dark turn for this particular story?**

 **People, are free to disagree—especially with my physics here, I'm not a physicist so I may have misapplied some theory and equations. (Actually, I almost definitely did.)**

 **All of that said…**

 **One final thing to address. The universe of this story has some AU aspects to it. Slightly altered characteristics, new historical details. I am well aware that Ozpin is written OOC in this fic as is Glynda and other characters.**

 **I will also be endeavoring to display how they started, ostensibly, in the same state as the show would have started them—but my small changes to each character's history and background made them slightly different people in very specific ways.**

 **In other words—I'm not _accidentally_ mischaracterizing anyone or a _ccidentally_ twisting canon. I'm attempting to achieve an effect. Not an effect that, necessarily, everyone will like—but an effect, nonetheless.**

 **Anyway.**

 **Here's your _massive_ chapter.**

 **No time for Grammar editing so please go easy on me.**

 **Guitar Huntsman Chapter 7**

The Emerald Forest was quiet.

Well, relatively quiet.

There were still a few sounds.

There were the trees, rustling in the wind.

There was the occasional snapping of branches as Grimm and animals shuffled through the woods.

There was the roar of success and cry of despair of prey and predator, the gears of the ecosystem, grinding out a never-ending cycle of life and death.

There was also the demented cackle of an heiress to a multi-billion lien corporation.

And the panicked distress of Mistral's reigning champion.

Pyrrha sped through the forest as if she were a defenseless civilian. As if a Grimm taken human-form was on her tail. As if even a moment spent catching her breath would result in her horrific death.

Weiss had taken to the trees, leaping from branch to branch like some sort of jungle Grimm. Using white glyphs to stay high and keep up with the sprinting Nikos.

Pyrrha kept looking over her shoulder as she ran, attempting to ensure that she was staying ahead of her pursuer.

She was right there. She was always right there.

The champion considered her options.

She could always stop.

Accept her fate.

Partner with the Schnee.

Would it really be that bad?

" _Pyrrha_ ," Weiss's voice floated from over her shoulder. " _Together, we will turn our enemies into throws!"_

Turn their enemies into throws?

What did that even…?

Oh.

Throws.

As in the fur rugs.

She was saying they would skin their enemies alive and keep their remains as trophies.

She didn't mean it literally. She couldn't.

Still, Pyrrha kicked into a higher gear, thanking the gods above for the thousands of hours she had spent training her endurance.

Of course, running wasn't working. She was maintaining distance from Weiss but not gaining any.

How could she escape her completely?

Pyrrha began flexing the mental muscle she called her semblance.

This was a rare way for her to use her power.

And she wasn't entirely sure she could do it on demand. At least not without serious mental preparation first.

But had uncertainty ever stopped her from accomplishing something before?

She'd done it once or twice, manipulating the magnetic fields surrounding her armor to propel herself through the air.

The act required a ridiculous amount of concentration, and the way her armor clenched and chafed was extremely uncomfortable. But it would allow her to lose her pursuer—which was all that really mattered presently.

Pyrrha glanced over her shoulder once more, just to make sure Wiess hadn't somehow managed to get directly above her.

She hadn't.

Pyrrha felt the pulsating electromagnetic fields around her. She felt their effect on her armor. She began to shift and compress them, like ropes. She tied them to Miló and Akoúo̱. She fixed them to her breastplate and boots. Then she prepared to tug herself upward.

It was at that moment she slammed into something solid. The solid object gave way with a grunt.

Pyrrha staggered twice after the passing collision, only to find herself staring down three Beowolf. It would have been a simple matter to jump over the three Grimm and continue along her way but…

She glanced over her shoulder.

Of course. She had—somehow—managed to bowl over not one, but two people. The first was the small girl she'd noticed earlier on the launch pads. Pyrrha had assessed her as quality first friend material. The other was a lanky boy with a mess of blonde hair. Had she seen him before launch? She must have. But, for some reason, he didn't look very familiar...

Pyrrha turned back to the charging Beowolves, bringing Miló to bear. Sure, they were all huntresses-and-huntsmen-in-training, which meant she could probably leave the two on the ground to their own devices and continue fleeing from Weiss—but knocking someone over _and_ leaving them to the Grimm?

There was a limit to how rude a person could be.

Especially if that person was Pyrrha.

Besides, what if a member of the pair she knocked over was low on aura?

Pyrrha imagined herself moving on, only to hear screams of agony behind her.

No.

That was a risk she couldn't take, no matter how unlikely.

She readied herself to make quick work of the approaching Grimm, assuming a relaxed fighting stance, eyes flicking between the approaching assailants.

Even as she focused her mind on the foes before her Pyrrha could feel her heart sinking.

She wasn't exactly making the _ultimate_ sacrifice by letting Weiss catch up to her…

She was certain fighting these three Beowolves wouldn't result in her death...

So why did it feel like every second she spent standing still brought her closer to some inescapable doom?

I*I*I

Willow Arc stared at her favorite daughter.

Favorite daughter?

No, that wasn't right.

She'd forgotten about Cece.

Willow Arc stared at _one_ of her two favorite daughters.

Ellie.

It wasn't that she _loved_ some of her female-children more than her other female-children.

No. Willow Arc _loved_ all her beautiful children equally.

But.

Well.

Some of them were… _easier_ to be proud of than others…

The twins were odd but fine…

Aren was precocious and a contrarian but improving…

Crystal and Alana were…

Was _irredeemable_ too harsh of a word?

It felt like it _should_ be too harsh a word.

But it also felt so correctly applied.

Willow could only pray that, one day, her eldest daughters would manage to accomplish _something_ that would make _someone_ proud.

Because after watching them sluff their way through huntress school, casually ride their natural ability, and exert minimum effort in just about everything…

She wasn't exactly impressed by their current showing.

Anyway.

Willow's maternal instincts zeroed in on Ellie, the mini-matriarch of the family.

The girl's face was twisted up in consternation.

Ellie hadn't taken off Jaune's hoodie since he had left, and Willow had caught her hugging and sniffing the fabric several times—an unusual display of affection for the most stoic of the Arcs.

Parting with Jaune had been a bittersweet moment for the entire Arc family—but it seemed to have affected Ellie more than everyone else.

The girl hadn't spoken a single word during the family's journey home from the train station.

Not when Crystal and Alana started poking and egging her on.

Not when Cece began to sob after dropping her snack on the ground.

Not even when Aren, seemingly irritated by her older-sister's somber mood, attempted to pick a fight with her.

That was the biggest indicator that Ellie was suffering more than she let on.

Sun or rain.

Angry or happy.

Wasteland or suburb.

Ellie never failed to rise to Aren's challenge.

Until now, that was.

Ellie seemed to improve a bit when the family arrived home.

But not by much.

She remained sluggish.

Not like Crystal or Alana.

Those two had practically turned into vegetables for the duration of their summer vacation.

Or had they become lazy-ass plants shortly after their birth?

Sometimes it was hard to recall.

Anyway, Ellie didn't turn into a couch potato after Jaune's departure.

She still went about her daily routine.

But there was a slowness to her movements. A sort of depressed lethargy. As if her life hadn't lost _all_ meaning—but it had certainly lost some of it.

She was recovering.

Which was good.

But it was… disconcerting that the clear catalyst behind her improvement was wearing her brother's clothes and sleeping in his room.

Willow knew that Ellie and Jaune were close—and she knew they had grown even closer over the last year.

But perhaps she had underestimated just how attached the pair was?

After all, Ellie was acting as if Jaune had taken her heart with him when he left.

Not a piece of her heart.

Not half of it.

The whole bloody organ.

"Ellie," Willow began, snapping her daughter out of her reverie. "Are you alright dear?"

Ellie looked up, meeting her mother's gaze. Her hand continued to move mechanically, stirring the boiling pot of noodles before her. "I'm fine mom, why?"

"You don't look fine."

Ellie sighed. "I'm just…thinking."

Willow returned her attention to the tomato she was chopping. "About?"

Ellie was silent for a moment. Then, looking over both her shoulders, eyes raking over the kitchen, she replied, "Jaune."

"You miss him," said Willow. It wasn't a question.

"Well, yeah. I miss him. But that's not what I was thinking about. I just…"

Ellie trailed off.

"Just…?" Willow prompted.

"I just have a bad feeling...I mean, I'm proud of Jaune and everything. And I believe in him, I really do. But…"

"You're worried Jaune's going to get himself into trouble," Willow filled in.

"I _know_ ," corrected Ellie. "I _know_ Jaune's going to get himself in trouble. There's zero doubt in my mind. That's just what Jaune does. And now he's alone…"

"It's killing you, not being able to help him."

Ellie nodded. "And I know that's dumb. Jaune's practically an adult. He needs to learn to deal with the results of his stupid decisions. But…" Ellie huffed out a long breath. "I've been telling myself that for years. But every time I see him in a mess, I can't help but throw myself at his problem."

Willow set down her knife, pushing the sliced tomato to the side. "Ellie, baby, look at me."

Ellie ceased her ministrations on the chicken thighs she was preparing, turning toward her mother.

Willow draped an arm around her daughter, not expecting the teenager to reciprocate the affection since she was working with raw meat.

"You're perfect Ellie. You're willing to drop everything for the people you love. Jaune needs it more often than most but I know you'd do the same for any of your siblings. That's just who you are—and you are beautiful—inside and out."

Willow watched Ellie's expression closely. There was some doubt in her eyes. But there was also a hint of a smile the stoic girl struggled to repress.

"I don't know about _any_ of my siblings," Ellie finally replied. "Maybe five of them."

"Just five huh?" repeated Willow with a smile. She knew even that statement was just Ellie posturing. If Crystal or Alana were ever in any real difficulty Ellie would be by their side in an instant. In fact, it was possible Ellie found her two older sisters most irritating because their life was so lethargically easy.

There was nothing for her to meddle in. Nothing for her to fix.

"Still," continued Ellie, tossing the deboned piece of chicken into the bowl. "I've got a bad feeling—and I have no idea why." She grabbed the last piece of meat and got to work removing the bone, fat, and gristle.

Willow chuckled. "It's Jaune's first day. He's probably just meeting people and showing off. Even if he messes up. How bad could he possibly…?"

Willow trailed off as she reflected upon the various ways Jaune had screwed up simple stuff in the past.

She could tell Ellie was doing the same.

There was the time he was asked to walk an old woman's dogs and somehow let them devour another old woman's cat.

There was also the time he tried to protect Cece from some young girls attempting to bully her, only for him to slip and fall, getting kicked and stomped by three nine-year-old's in dresses.

And then there was that time he tried to make his own guitar; he ruined his father's workbench when the _chain-saw_ with which he was attempting to cut a sheet of _plywood_ , got away from him, carving into the counter, through it, and into the ornate box Mathias had been planning to give her for their anniversary stored beneath.

And who could forget the time a girl from school blackmailed him into being her slave—although that only lasted until the millisecond Ellie caught wind of what was going on. Willow only ever heard about the event because the girl showed up at their doorstep, in tears, reading a formal apology letter.

"Well…" restarted Willow, after nearly a minute of silence. "I bet at a school filled with musicians he'll have an easier time making friends. Hopefully one or two of them will try to keep him out of trouble like you do."

Willow didn't expect Ellie's frown to deepen.

"You think?"

Willow smiled at the girl's new expression. "Not to replace you dear—to assist in your absence."

Ellie nodded, but didn't look convinced. Her face was still twisted up in a grimace.

"That didn't help at all, did it?" asked Willow.

Ellie sighed. "A little. It's just…"

She trailed off.

"Just…?" prompted Willow.

"I can't shake the feeling that Jaune has _already_ got himself mixed up in some… _shenanigans_ —maybe even worse than his usual."

Willow exhaled.

There was no point in lying. Not to Ellie. Nor to herself.

It was certainly possible that Jaune had done something unbelievably stupid. Or—as he'd likely see it—life had done something unbelievably stupid to him.

Still.

"Let's have faith."

Ellie raised an eyebrow at her as she turned off the stove and grabbed a colander from the cabinets directly below.

"Faith in Jaune?"

"Yes," said Willow. "He's pursuing his dream. And we both know that this is what he's meant for. He loves music. And music loves him. As long as he's doing what he was born to do—what the universe wants him to do…then let's have faith."

Ellie looked to be considering her mother's words carefully as she placed the strainer in the sink. After a few seconds, she began to nod. "You're right. He's meant to be a musician." Her frown eased into a smile as she drained the noodles in the sink. "As long as he's pursuing music—as long as he's on that path…"

She set the pot down on the other side of the sink.

"I'm sure he'll be fine."

I*I*I

Jaune bounced off the redhead like a rubber ball off concrete.

He should have fallen backwards…

By all accounts he _would_ have fallen backwards…

If he weren't hyper aware of the injured girl on his back.

When Jaune realized that he might crush Ruby without immediate intervention, he spun, flinging himself forward and to the side.

The result was a miserable face plant.

But at least he didn't further injure the girl who had saved his life fifteen minutes earlier.

For a sickening moment, Jaune feared that he had miscalculated. He feared that the next noise he would hear would be Ruby's screams, as razor sharp claws ripped into her back.

And that a few seconds later he'd feel those same claws on his own back.

Pushing himself onto his knees as best he could without dislodging Ruby, Jaune risked a glance backward.

What he saw was…

Well, it was something else.

He watched the armored goddess dispatch the first Grimm with clinical ease. She flicked out her shield for the next two Grimm, but she hardly seemed to need the extra protection. The monsters were reduced to nothing before Jaune managed to stand.

Admittedly, it took him longer than usual to get up because of his burning legs and Ruby's extra weight...

But that made the speed at which she killed the Grimm no less impressive.

She turned towards him.

She had the greenest eyes.

"Tha—" began Jaune. He was interrupted by a white blur slamming into his savoir.

For a half-second he was terrified.

Did some pale, high-speed, aerial Grimm come to avenge its fallen brethren? Was there anything he could do to help his savior with Ruby on his back? Was there anything he could do to help her without Ruby on his back?

Then he realized it was not a Grimm atop the fallen redhead but the same girl who had both literally and figuratively exploded on Ruby.

"Ha!" The girl panted. "I caught you!"

The redhead—Pyrrha—produced a rather worn smile. "I apologize Weiss. I…I don't know what came over me. I should not have run. I just…"

She trailed off.

Weiss didn't give her much time to consider her next words. "No need for explanations. We are partners now. I will come to understand your idiosyncrasies with time. Besides, I found the chase quite…thrilling."

Jaune watched the scene play out with something akin to fascination. The doll-faced angel was straddling the armored goddess. And the angel was telling the goddess how exciting she'd found chasing and pinning her down…

Surrounded by Grimm and possessing absolutely no fighting ability to speak of—this wasn't the best situation or environment for thinking it, but Jaune couldn't help himself…

Two beyond-super-models-good-looking women on top of one another?

The only way it could be hotter was if they started wrestling and invited him to join…

Then again, they were huntresses and probably way stronger than him, so perhaps watching from afar was a better bet than being in the middle.

"What are they doing?" asked Ruby, probably intending to whisper, but a little too loud to call the procedure successful.

Right, the girl he had gotten grievously injured out of his own stupidity—perhaps he should pay more attention to her than his raging hormones.

Jaune replied in a much quieter voice. "I think it's foreplay." He mentally slapped himself. What was he doing? Whispering something like that to a young girl?

"Oh," said Ruby, simply. "Wait. _For play_? Or _foreplay_?"

Once again, her whisper was somehow also a roar.

Weiss heard her.

The heiress's head craned to look over her shoulder so quickly Jaune was worried she might have injured her neck. Her eyes were like artic oceans, complete with a tendrilled monster to grab, drag, and drown.

"What did you just say!?"

Ruby released a small noise which Jaune could only interpret as fear.

Jaune couldn't blame her, he found himself feeling nervous under that chilling glare too.

But someone had to respond. And Ruby's head was strategically concealed behind his neck and shoulders, so it likely wasn't coming from her.

"It's just…" began Jaune. "You came out of nowhere and tackled her. But you're clearly not fighting. And you're still on top of her too…"

Weiss's eyes narrowed with each of his points, eventually transforming her features into a glare so murderous that Jaune's ability to speak petered into nothing.

Jaune decided to turn his attention elsewhere—lest she interpret his continued eye contact as a challenge. He instead glanced at Pyrrha's face.

There wasn't much pleasure in her expression. Just…resignation.

So maybe the two weren't about to make out.

Bummer.

" _Neither_ of you have a right to question mine or Pyrrha's behavior," began Weiss, standing up and dusting herself off. "But for the sake of avoiding a misunderstanding, I will explain."

Jaune considered telling the girl that an explanation was not necessary. After all, now that her and Pyrrha making out was off the table, his body and brain were beginning to remember that he was about to die in a Grimm infested forest and he really couldn't care less about anything that didn't directly pertain to getting himself and Ruby to safety.

He began to clear his throat.

Weiss silenced him with a look that was somehow scarier than the Grimm that wanted to tear him into bloody bits. She glanced at Pyrrha. The golden warrior was pushing herself onto her feet.

"Pyrrha was merely testing me. Evaluating whether I could keep up with a warrior of her caliber."

"Oh?" replied Jaune, looking at the redhead in a new light.

At first glance, the crimson goddess seemed so nice.

Who would have guessed that she'd only consider her partner worthy if they could physically match or surpass her?

Did she hold everyone to her standards? Or was that honor reserved for her teammates?

"Did you pass?" asked Jaune, turning his attention back toward Weiss.

"Pass…?" repeated Weiss.

"The test," explained Jaune. "The one Pyrrha gave you—did you pass it?"

"That…" began Weiss. She glanced at Pyrrha. "…is a valid question."

There was the smallest crack in the angel's mask. Most people would have missed it. Most people would have convinced themselves they imagined it.

But Jaune had seven sisters.

He knew exactly what concealed insecurity looked like.

Weiss was good at hiding it. But she wasn't better than Ellie. And Jaune could read Ellie like a pamphlet. There wasn't a thought that passed through that girl's head that her big brother wasn't privy to.

Pyrrha glanced between Weiss and Jaune several times. She looked confused by Weiss's question. "Oh! Um yes. My test. You passed it with flying colors."

All traces of insecurity fled Weiss's expression. "As anticipated."

Jaune resisted the urge to snort.

More like, _as fervently hoped for_.

"Oh!" shouted Ruby, without warning.

Jaune flinched. Did the girl not realize how close her vocal cords were to his ears?

"Do either of you know how to unlock aura!?"

And, of course, as he, a self-absorbed total-asshole, worried about his long-term hearing. The girl who had broken her legs saving him was _still_ saving him.

"I do," replied Pyrrha. "Why?"

"Jaune!" exclaimed Ruby. "Jaune's not supposed to be here! He's a civvy!"

Pyrrha and Weiss stared at Jaune for a few long seconds. He tried not to buckle under their intense gazes.

Finally, Weiss spoke. "What do you mean by _he's a civvy_?"

Ruby listed off the various implications of him being a civilian. "He doesn't have his aura unlocked. He's probably never fought a Grimm before. He doesn't even have a weapon—and I don't think he'd be able to do much even if he had one, since he has no training—no offense Jaune. And…"

From watching the exasperation build on the white-haired girl's face Jaune was pretty sure Weiss already knew the most relevant aspects of his civilian status—and that she was quickly getting fed up with the addition of Ruby's less relevant facts.

The obvious intent of her question was _why_ he was out here. With them. Among the Grimm.

Still, Ruby continued her less-than-helpful rant, even as Weiss's obvious irritation grew.

"…he probably doesn't have any survival skills—unless he's into camping—but like the real kind, where you catch your own food? Not the kind in a cabin with a T.V. Does anyone even consider that to _be_ real camping? It's basically just living in a house in the woods. Which I guess is _sort_ of like camping now that I think about it. Ooh! But Jaune still must be strong. He's carrying me and my baby after all…"

Jaune watched Pyrrha's eyes widened to comedic heights. She obviously didn't know what Ruby was referring to as _baby_.

"Enough!" Weiss nearly screamed. "Stop talking!"

She jabbed a slender finger toward Jaune, locking him with a frigid glare. "You, if you are a civilian, explain why you are here."

Jaune choked.

Explain why he was here?

He was still waiting for someone to explain that to him!

Explain why he was here…

Rather, the _universe_ needed to explain why its favorite pastime was setting an invisible log in front of him every twenty-five seconds.

And why it liked kicking him in the ribs after he fell over.

And why it liked setting him on fire after it got tired from all the kicking.

 _That_ was what needed to be explained.

Not his presence.

"Well," began Jaune, deciding that attempting to explain his current thoughts to Weiss would not go over well with the irate girl. "The other day, I was just minding my business, browsing in a store…"

He trailed off.

Was that the right place to start? Getting caught in the crossfire between a fifteen-year-old vigilante and an infamous violent criminal?

No.

That wasn't the starting point to this mess. Sure, it made him seem more like a victim, rather than an idiot, which was why his brain liked that narrative so much.

But if he was being honest…

This mess hadn't really started with an event. There was no single moment where he, himself, or the universe screwed him over.

Unless, of course, you counted the day he was born.

As far as Jaune could tell, there were two reasons why he was currently standing in a Grimm infested forest, without aura, and without a plan.

First was his name.

Jaune _Arc_.

 _Arc_.

Enough said.

He was an Arc.

Therefore, he was supposed to be out here, walking amongst the Grimm—fearless. A hero. That's what it meant to be an Arc. That's what it had always meant to be an Arc—especially if you were the lone male of the generation.

So much of this could be attributed to his last name. So much.

His father wanted him to be a huntsman…

Because he was an Arc.

Beacon's headmaster accepted him—despite him having zero qualifications…

Because he was an Arc.

Glynda Goodwitch had thrown him off a cliff…

Because he was an Arc.

Because he was an Arc…

Because he was an Arc…

Because he was an Arc…

But he'd be remiss to pretend as if that was the only reason he was here.

After all, he was also stupid.

And _that_ certainly didn't help matters.

Of course, he wasn't just stupid.

That would be too easy. If he was just _plain_ stupid, then his mother and sisters would never let him out of their sight. He'd be coddled well past adulthood.

No, he wasn't the normal kind of stupid.

He was the worst kind of stupid.

He was afflicted with the kind of self-destructive selective stupidity that only reared its ugly head at opportune moments, ripe for ruining Jaune's life.

Like when he'd thought it a good idea to send an application to Beacon, to make himself feel better about not living up to his father's expectations—although that was kind of Ellie's fault…

Or when he'd had the perfect opportunity to confess, in Ozpin's office but he felt guilted into a place where there was a ninety-nine-percent chance of his death—although that was kind of Ruby's fault…

Or when he'd gotten himself chucked into this goddam forest—although, that was one-hundred-ten percent Glynda Goodwitch's fault.

Now that he thought about it…was he not stupid?

At first glance, his life looked like one long line of metaphorical faceplants after another. Which on paper, screamed _stupid_.

But the more he thought about it…

Weren't those faceplants all caused by women sticking out their foot from around a corner?

Huh.

So, in conclusion…

He wasn't stupid.

This _was_ everyone else's fault.

Man, this was why it paid to just take a minute and think things through.

"…you were browsing in a store…?" prompted Pyrrha.

Jaune jumped a little at the sound of her voice. He'd forgotten that he was in the middle of a conversation.

"Right. Um. Before that, I came to Vale because I got accepted to the Vale Academy of Arts—"

"Because Jaune's an awesome singer!" inserted Ruby.

Jaune winced. Ruby wasn't wrong; he liked singing. But, if he was being honest, he was more into composition and playing.

"You're a musician?" cut in Weiss. Surprisingly, there was a measure of genuine interest in her voice.

Jaune nodded.

"I suppose that explains the odd shape of your weapons," said Pyrrha.

"Yeah, they're just instruments," continued Jaune. "Anyway, I guess I should just say I have terrible luck. Like, the worst luck—"

"Just like Uncle Qrow!" interjected Ruby.

"Uncle Qrow?" repeated Jaune.

"Yeah, uncle Qrow's _semblance_ is bad luck."

Jaune blanched. Holy crap. That was _possible_? Jaune's hesitance to unlock his aura redoubled. After all, he was already unlucky. What the hell could a bad luck semblance do to him? Would he just instantly get maimed in some absurd way?

On the flipside, perhaps he would receive a good luck semblance. One powerful enough to neutralize his bad luck and leave him with normal or slightly below average luck.

That would be something.

"Well, anyway. I accidentally applied for Beacon a few days ago—"

"How does one accidentally apply for a school?" interrupted Weiss, eyes narrowed.

Jaune did his best to look innocent as he shrugged. "Hard to explain but it's mostly my sister's fault."

Ellie would kill him if this retelling of the story ever got back to her. But there was no chance of that. None whatsoever.

"I've got seven of them and, as you can probably imagine, there are some troublemakers in the bunch."

So, all his sisters would kill him. Seemed about right.

"Anyway, I got accepted here because the people running this school are all absolute lunatics. I was also accepted to Vale Academy of Arts. I came to Vale to attend the Academy of Arts but then…well…" Jaune considered how best to tell this part of the story. "I was at my hotel and um…I got hungry. So, I went to this weird part-dust part-grocery store. Then I met Ruby and got mixed up in a robbery—"

"He fought Roman Torchwick!" interjected Ruby.

"You fought Roman Torchwick?" asked Pyrrha, sounding impressed.

"Sort of," answered Jaune. "But not really."

"So, you were mixed up in the robbery," hypothesized Weiss. "And stole credit for running Torchwick off, despite having nothing to do with his departure? And thus, were offered a spot here at Beacon? Which you accepted—not realizing just what it means to be a huntsman or huntress?"

Jaune glared at the short heiress.

She thought he had done all this on _purpose._

She thought he had put _himself_ in this situation—because he was an idiot?

Aside from that…less-than-inspired moment when he sent in an application to a huntsman academy, despite having zero training as a huntsman—Jaune had no volition in how he arrived at this moment. He'd been dragged here. Kicking, screaming, and struggling.

"First, I told you. I was accepted to Beacon _before_ I came to Vale. I just had intention attending. Second, I know _exactly_ what it means to be a huntsman—probably better than you do."

Weiss scoffed.

There was something about that scoff, so full of disbelief and disdain…

It just set him off.

"My grandfather is a huntsman," began Jaune angrily.

Weiss clearly wasn't impressed.

"My grandmother _was_ a huntress," he continued.

Still wasn't doing much for her.

"My father is a huntsman."

Her superior look was beginning to wane.

"Both of my older sisters are huntresses, as was every Arc family head for the last ten gener—"

Weiss cut him off irately. "Well, if you already knew how dangerous it is, then why are you—wait, did you say Arc?"

Jaune nodded slowly. The Arcs were still well known in huntsman circles, but they'd fallen out of the public spotlight a long time ago. While he'd expect an experienced huntsman to know of his family's legacy. Or even an advanced student who'd studied huntsman history. He wouldn't have expected the same from a first year.

"Yeah, you've…heard of us, I guess?"

Weiss nodded; her condescending expression had vanished entirely. There was a glimmer of, dare he say it, camaraderie in her eyes. "Most of the upper houses in Atlas call yours a sleeping lion, woken only by war. You are considered one of the few great lines of Vale."

"Really?" said Jaune, voice reflecting genuine interest. "Guess we're more popular in Atlas than in Vale these days."

"Atlas has always placed emphasis on family name. On legacy."

Ruby finally spoke up. "So, you guys are both from like… _super_ families huh?"

"That…" began Weiss, a surprising lack of irritation in her voice. "…is an adequate method of describing them, I suppose. Although the Arcs and the Schnees are quite different."

"How so?" questioned Pyrrha.

Weiss glanced at Jaune, as if asking for permission.

Jaune shrugged. He didn't see any reason _not_ to discuss his family.

"Well," said the Schnee heiress. "The Arcs are a much older family, for one. Their history stretches back more than two-hundred years. My family came into greatness more recently. My great grandfather started our legacy less than a century ago."

Weiss glanced at him.

Jaune nodded, confirming that her information was accurate.

Weiss picked up confidence and speed from there. "Additionally, my family's influence is derived primarily from the corporation my great grandfather built—accompanied by our garnered wealth and various Atlesian political ties. The Arcs are a line of warriors, who have distinguished themselves in every Grimm incursion and war over the last three centuries—save one."

Jaune did his best not to blush when the green-eyed crimson-haired goddess started studying him intently.

She was probably looking for that Arc warrior gene.

Too bad.

"That's why," continued Weiss. "The Arc family is called a sleeping lion, woken only by war. They keep to themselves and hunt Grimm during times of peace. But they are called upon during times of war—both between the kingdoms and against the Grimm. Jaune's ancestors led united-kingdom armies in some of the most important struggles in history."

"Whoa!" Ruby squealed. "Your family is super awesome Jaune."

"They're not all that." He rejected her praise.

Weiss corrected him. "Yes, they really are. But that still does not explain why you are out here, without aura—without training."

Jaune groaned. "Doesn't it though? I'd think you, of all people, should get it."

Weiss arched a pale eyebrow at that.

Jaune explained. "I'm not a huntsman. And I haven't made a secret of that fact. But Arcs are huntsmen. And in most peoples' minds, I'm an Arc before I'm anything else. I say I've never killed a Grimm; they say I've got a unique sense of humor. I say I'm no good in a fight; they say I'm just modest. I say I don't have aura and I'm not a huntsman and if you put me on that launcher I will absolutely die so, oh god, please don't do this to me, I just want to be a musician—they telekinetically chuck me into a forest full of Grimm. That's why I'm here. Miss Goodwitch and the headmaster think I'm some kind of… savant huntsman."

"And you're not…?" supplied Pyrrha, helpfully.

Jaune sighed. "Have you ever seen someone get knocked out with a wooden training sword?"

Pyrrha nodded.

"Was the person who got knocked out the one holding the sword? And was he not sparring with anyone—just going through a basic form?"

Pyrrha's eyes widened. "Well—"

Jaune interrupted. "Was he wearing a helmet?"

Pyrrha blanched.

Ruby laughed.

Her laughter petered out when she noticed neither Weiss nor Pyrrha were laughing.

"Um…I can't see Jaune's face…but that was a joke, right?" No response. "Also…I'm starting to feel my legs again."

I*I*I

Pyrrha glanced from Jaune to Ruby and then back again.

Okay.

Okay.

Her partner was Weiss Schnee.

There was a huntress in training with two broken legs in front of her.

And this boy was a civilian—a civilian from a family that had produced generations of elite huntsman, but who lacked even basic skills.

It wasn't how she'd expected this day to go—but she could handle it. Of course, she could.

People called her the _Invincible Girl,_ didn't they?

It wasn't a fair title. Nor was it true.

But she'd spent years doing her best to live up to the absurd expectations—and she hadn't been entirely unsuccessful.

It wouldn't make much sense to drop her tradition of precision and success now, when there were finally lives on the line. When what she was doing would finally matter.

"…I'm starting to feel my legs again."

Ruby's quiet words drew her out of her thoughts, drawing her attention to the Ruby's hastily bandaged appendages. There was blood soaking through the bandages on one of her legs.

Pyrrha returned her attention to her face. The girl's bottom lip was trembling.

"What happened?"

Ruby moaned.

Jaune answered for her. "She saved my life. She caught me when I was falling—and she…" He exhaled and studied the ground. "…she broke both her legs."

Pyrrha swallowed, despite her mouth being dry.

Ruby's quickly dwindling exuberance made sense now.

Pyrrha knew what the girl was feeling.

Pyrrha recalled being blindsided by an insane dust-based attack in her second tournament. She had managed to get her shield up but had badly broken two of her ribs and fractured her arm regardless. Adrenaline and the thought of loss drowned out the pain and allowed her to secure a victory.

But when that high began to fade...

When her brain remembered her injuries…

It started with a building sense of dread as pain receptors slowly came to life like an evening person getting up in the early morning.

But then the damaged nerves had their cup of coffee and got to work with a vengeance. Abject misery followed.

But, somehow, the build to that misery, as feeling slowly returned, was almost worse than the agony itself.

Once again, she was drawn from her memories by another's voice.

"Don't worry Ruby, we'll get you to a doctor in no time." He glanced at Pyrrha and Weiss hopefully. "Will you guys help us?"

Pyrrha answered immediately. "Of course we will. Right Weiss?"

When Weiss didn't respond Pyrrha glanced over at her partner. The girl was looking off into the distance distractedly.

Pyrrha felt a distinct sinking feeling in her stomach. She…she couldn't still be thinking about the test—could she? She wasn't plotting how they could escort Ruby and Jaune but still get the relics? Or—even worse, considering leaving them behind in favor of completing their assignment?

Surely not…

Not when a civilian and a future comrade needed their help?

Pyrrha had spent more than her fair time around callous, self-centered, and self-focused individuals. All of them looking to use other people to get ahead. Many of them looking to use her.

She'd fled from Mistral because she didn't want more of the same.

She'd fled from Weiss because she didn't want more of the same.

Yet here she was…

"Weiss…?" she prompted.

"I'm thinking," said Weiss, abruptly but not quite rudely. "We need to set mission parameters. Jaune's a civilian and Ruby is badly injured. Clearly, we need to get them out of this forest as soon as possible. But that needs to be balanced with the safest approach." The heiress began to pace. "We could move back in the direction we came from. When we reach the cliff we were launched from, we could signal for aid. But…" she trailed off into silence for a moment before resuming. "Since most of the initiates flew _over_ that portion of the forest there is likely to be more Grimm in that direction. Additionally, we are less likely to run into other pairs. Our best chances of assuring their safety is by linking up with others—that way we can establish a perimeter around them. Standard escort protocol states that…" Weiss trailed off when her roving eyes rested on Pyrrha. "Is there any particular reason you are smiling at me like that?"

Pyrrha blinked. Was she smiling? She hadn't noticed. "I was simply impressed by your analysis of the situation."

Weiss flushed a bit. "O-oh. Well, thank you."

"So, what are we doing?" questioned Jaune.

Pyrrha turned her attention to Jaune, as did Weiss.

The Mistralian winced when she noticed Ruby's forehead buried on Jaune's shoulder. The girl was silent and unmoving but Pyrrha knew she was in immense pain.

Out of the corner of her eye Pyrrha noticed Weiss's eyes locked on Ruby's lowered head and bloodied legs.

"We need to go in the direction of the other teams, request the assistance of at least one pair—but preferably two—and then make our way to the closest exit point in a standard escort formation. But first, Pyrrha, you said you know how to unlock aura?"

Pyrrha nodded and glanced at Jaune.

He looked apprehensive, to say the least.

Which made sense. He was from a family of huntsmen and huntresses—but didn't want to be one himself. He might have even fought to avoid getting his aura unlocked. Now he was in the middle of a Grimm infested forest and seemed to have little choice in the matter.

"Are you certain we should unlock Jaune's aura?"

"Why wouldn't we?" replied Weiss.

"Because he's a civilian. And escort missions—from what I've heard—don't usually involve unlocking the aura of the client. Aura attracts Grimm, if we unlock his…well he doesn't have to become a huntsman, but he'll at least need combat training. Jaune has already made it clear his passion is music—that he wants to build his own legacy—unlocking his aura would be a step in the wrong direction…"

Pyrrha looked back at Jaune. He had visibly relaxed. Gratitude flickered across his expression.

"Trust me when I say I understand the desire to be something aside from the family legacy," said Weiss, directly addressing Jaune. "And it is your choice. But Ruby's aura was drained when she broke her legs. And what little will regenerate during this test will be redirected to her injuries. That means she is defenseless against the Grimm. Until we meet up with some others, anything we can do to shore up our defenses might be critical. I wouldn't expect you to fight without the proper training. That would be unreasonable. But unlocking your aura will allow Pyrrha and I to focus on protecting Ruby—since you would have mobility, defenses, and regeneration—all of which Ruby lacks right now."

Pyrrha watched the transformation in Jaune's expression as Weiss reframed unlocking his aura as an opportunity to protect Ruby. The hints of hesitance and gratitude he had shown were both gone, replaced by determination and hard eyes.

"I understand." He looked at Pyrrha. "Do it."

Pyrrha didn't bother asking him to confirm his decision, questioning if he was sure. There was no doubt in his sapphire eyes or his resolved tone. She stepped forward, resting one hand on his chest, directly above his heart and the other on his neck, the side which remained unoccupied by Ruby. She gathered her aura and reached out towards his—or where his would be if it was already unlocked. "For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee."

Jaune's aura burst into life, a white glow surrounded his frame. Pyrrha watched as the scratch across his cheek faded into smooth skin. As a visible glow surged around his body for a few seconds before fading.

"Wow," said Jaune, inhaling deeply. "So that's aura."

"That's aura," confirmed Pyrrha. "And you appear to have quite a bit of it. That's good. Learning how to manipulate aura to different parts of your body for defense, efficient aura use, takes time. It's easier to just pulse around your entire body. And when you have a lot of it requires less effort to call it out."

Jaune nodded.

"Guess the Grimm will have to work a little harder when they're ripping me apart, huh?"

"Don't talk like that," cut in Weiss, before Pyrrha could reply. "Negativity attracts Grimm. You and Ruby will be fine. Pyrrha and I will protect you." Weiss looked toward her. "Pyrrha, you're stronger than me. Will it slow you down terribly to hold onto Ruby's weapon and Jaune's…guitar? We should put as little strain on her as possible, all things considered."

"Of course," Pyrrha sprang into action, a little ashamed she hadn't thought to relieve Ruby on her own.

Jaune spoke to her in a low voice as she went behind him. "You can leave Ole' Bl—my guitar here. It isn't as important as Ruby."

Pyrrha hummed as she carefully unloaded both the guitar and the…whatever this compact weapon was off Ruby's back. She had picked up on the way he almost called his instrument by a name—not unlike a huntress and her weapons. The guitar was every bit as important to him as Miló and Akoúo̱ were to her.

"You're not wrong," she began. "No object is worth a life. But me carrying this guitar won't cost anybody their life. Besides, if you're willing to have your aura unlocked for a girl you barely know, despite wanting to be a normal civilian, then you shouldn't have much trouble understanding why I'm more than willing to carry a ten-pound guitar."

Jaune was silent until she finished removing the items from Ruby and walked back around front. She was surprised by his spotlight smile.

"Thanks, Pyrrha."

Pyrrha returned his smile.

Had she just made a friend?

A real friend?

I*I*I

Thank the gods!

Well…if the two still occasionally listened in on the creation they abandoned.

Thank god!

If the omnipresent metaphysical entity that, conceptually, ranked above all other beings actually existed as well.

Thank coffee!

The only god in which Ozpin placed his faith.

Glynda was gone.

She had left a minute or so after they had seen Jaune Arc run across the screen with Ruby on his back.

A group of two no-name huntsman-hopefuls, whose files were so boring Ozpin used them to fall asleep the previous night—had fallen into trouble facing a few Ursa. Emphasis on the word _few_. Glynda would save them and they would be fine, but he was glad the two morons weren't going to slip through the cracks and wind up at his school.

If the pair really wanted to be huntsmen, they could just move to Vacuo. He heard Shade was still accepting just about everyone these days.

As well they should.

That kingdom was a mess.

All of that, of course, was aside from the point.

When Glynda had left to go deal with the incompetent initiates Ozpin had returned his attention to his tablet. He'd found Jaune Arc in the company of one Pyrrha Nikos and Weiss Schnee, Ruby Rose still on his back.

He decided to activate the audio on the camera. Since Glynda wasn't around, he figured it wouldn't matter if he listened to the Arc flirt shamelessly with three girls at once. He wanted to see if he was smooth enough to get away with it.

What he heard was…

Well it was…

Just thank the gods Glynda wasn't present.

 _"I'm not a huntsman. And I haven't made a secret of that fact. But Arcs are huntsmen. And in most peoples' minds, I'm an Arc before I'm anything else. I say I've never killed a Grimm; they say I've got a unique sense of humor. I say I'm no good in a fight; they say I'm just modest. I say I don't have aura and I'm not a huntsman and if you put me on that launcher I will absolutely die so, oh god, please don't do this to me, I just want to be a musician—they telekinetically chuck me into a forest full of Grimm. That's why I'm here. Miss Goodwitch and the headmaster think I'm some kind of… savant huntsman."_

It was a joke.

That's what he'd assumed. It was some sort of ruse to get with one of the girls. It had to be.

Ozpin had laughed aloud.

 _"She saved my life. She caught me when I was falling—and she…she broke both her legs."_

Ozpin studied the hastily crafted bandages wrapped around Ruby's legs. One of them was red and damp. And Ruby appeared to be in genuine pain.

He didn't like this.

He didn't like this at all.

 _"I understand. Do it."_

No. No. No. No. No.

The boy's aura _had_ to be unlocked already. There was no other possibility. Miss Nikos would attempt to unlock his aura with her own—his would already be active and violently reject her attempt to force her own on him—the two would both be sent flying away from each other because of the reaction.

It was the only available outcome.

Then the activation succeeded.

Oh, shit.

Jaune Arc was a civilian.

They had just tossed—excuse him— _Glynda_ had just tossed a civilian into the middle of a Grimm infested forest.

And to make matters worse, Ruby Rose, daughter of Summer Rose and Taiyang Xiao-Long—had broken her legs saving his life—after _Glynda Goodwitch_ had tossed him into the forest.

And the civilian—tossed into the forest by none other than _Glynda Goodwitch_ , against his recommendation he might add—was an Arc. An Arc who wanted to be a musician. But an Arc, nonetheless.

Ozpin paused, took a deep breath, took a sip of coffee, and took another deep breath.

No point in dwelling on the past that _Glynda_ had screwed up.

What next?

Damage control.

What were the worst-case scenarios and how could he avoid them?

There was the media finding out they—and by _they_ , he meant _Glynda_ —had forced a civilian to participate in a life-threatening assessment for aura enhanced individuals. That was probably the worst-case scenario, since it would involve _everyone_ else finding out as well.

There was the Arc family finding out. Apparently, they had sent their son to Vale to attend the VAA and he had instead been snatched up off the streets and essentially imprisoned at a school he had no intention in attending.

Although, if he had just _said_ he wasn't attending Beacon. If he had just _said_ he wanted to be a musician and attend the VAA…

Ozpin would have laughed in his face and assigned more teachers to make sure he didn't escape.

But at least the kid would have had the excuse of having tried. As it was, the boy had never made a serious attempt to inform him or Glynda of the circumstances—as far as he knew. A fact which he would wield like a club if word of this madness were to every get out.

And worse than the Arc's finding out was…

Glynda.

If Glynda found out he was a civilian…

She'd start looking into why the hell he was accepted. The bread trail would lead her to him. And that…that would not be pretty. Learning that he'd used forgery to slip a qualified huntsman into the school would set Glynda off like a rocket.

Learning that he'd used forgery to slip a civilian in—a civilian she then chucked off a cliff—well she'd be torn up with both guilt and rage in equal measures. She'd apologize profusely to Jaune, resign her position, and then murder him.

Not necessarily in that order.

Ozpin did not particularly enjoy being ripped limb from limb. It was not a pleasant way to die.

He would know—he'd experienced it more than a few times.

Many of them at the hands of one of the few women to have walked the planet who was more fearsome than Glynda Goodwitch.

Right, so how could he deal with this? Four people—not including himself—knew of Jaune's circumstances. Well, that he knew of. But considering the possibility of others was a pointless waste of mental energy. He could only plan based on the information he had. No more. No less.

He'd save the postulating for when he was developing contingencies; not his main course of action.

No doubt if Mr. Arc managed to survive initiation, he'd be a little less shy about sharing his unique circumstances with any staff member willing to listen—near-death experiences tended to loosen the lips of even the most taciturn men.

Wait.

 _If_ he survived.

Dear gods. He could die.

Of all the potential outcomes, Jaune Arc's death ranked the absolute worst. That would be downright cataclysmic.

Ozpin didn't even want to consider how Tyrannus would respond. The man complained about his grandchildren's lack of drive on a regular basis, lamenting what a force of destruction seven Arc huntresses and one Arc huntsman in a single generation could have been.

However, his constant mumbling and complaining aside, Tyrannus Arc loved his family. Not because he was a particularly sensitive or loving man. But because they were Arcs. Marriage or blood—it didn't matter. Arcs stuck together and they brought down fire and iron upon their enemies.

Plus, there was Ruby's injuries to consider. Taiyang's response would be comparable to the Arcs' if something further were to happen to his youngest daughter.

Clearly, he needed to extract them himself, as soon as physically possible. He stepped toward the cliffside—just as Glynda returned, with two students floating beside her.

He froze.

"Ah, Ms. Goodwitch. How did your rescue go?"

"Uneventful," replied Glynda. She turned to the two students she had saved. Neither were able to meet her eyes—no doubt embarrassed over their shortcomings.

As well they should be.

"Return to the library. You will be debriefed when the initiation period has ended."

The two boys trudged away.

"Perhaps you should show them the way?" suggested Ozpin, hopefully.

Glynda ignored him. "Has anything else occurred?"

Ozpin wondered how he should answer this.

If he suggested something was wrong…she'd want details. And if he was purposefully vague or obscure, she'd push harder.

What he had to take into account was—

"No."

Oops.

It slipped out before he had given it much thought.

Ozpin watched Glynda nod.

Well, he hadn't given it the proper consideration. But it was probably the right call. Any other answer would result in Glynda investigating. That was _sure_ to end poorly. Him entering the forest on his own would also arouse her suspicion.

Conversely, while leaving Jaune and Ruby in the forest _could_ go poorly—it could also all work out. They had found another group to protect them—and Weiss Schnee clearly had a strong grasp of the situation—plus Jaune had his aura unlocked now.

Yes. Of all the children he had just haphazardly tossed into the monster infested wilderness below, Ozpin could trust Weiss Schnee and Pyrrha Nikos to look after a civilian. They had both likely received training beyond most of their peers.

Why…

The two of them were likely almost huntresses already!

That settled, he still needed to plan.

The group was looking for another pair of students to support them and afterward they intended to look for an exit point to signal a teacher. He needed to make sure _he_ was that teacher. He needed to meet with anyone who knew of Jaune's circumstances, in person and in private, before they could start spreading false—well, not quite false, more like patently true, but who kept track of that sort of thing anyway?—rumors about his mishandling of Jaune Arc's enrollment.

He'd also have to consider anyone else the group might tell of Jaune's status…

Then he'd have to figure out what to do about Jaune himself. The boy would, no doubt, be angry…

But first, he needed a way to subtly distract Glynda. It would be a delicate task. To fail was to invoke her suspicion and, potentially, anger.

Ugh.

Even if all this was largely his fault…

Why him?

I*I*I

"Do you need me to carry Ruby for a bit Jaune?"

"Thanks, Pyrrha but I'm fine. I was feeling tired earlier but after you unlocked my aura, I started feeling like I could run a marathon! Is this how huntsmen feel all the time?"

"Hm," said Pyrrha, from behind him. "Well, we do have more endurance than most civilians—but I think _your_ energy is a side-effect of having your aura unlocked today _and_ having so much of it."

"We're heading in the right direction!" announced Weiss from up front. She motioned around the clearing. The earth was upturned and there were spent casings scattered about the grass. Clearly, someone else had been here.

"Which way did they go?" asked Jaune.

Weiss's shoulders lifted minutely—if one was squinting, it looked like a shrug. "I'm not a tracker. I can't just look at broken twigs and pressed grass and follow someone. Your guess is as good as mine."

Jaune glanced over his shoulder at Ruby's profile. She was biting down on a handkerchief Weiss had offered her, struggling not to make noises that would attract the Grimm, tears rolling down her round cheeks.

"Don't worry Ruby, we're going to be out of here soon—then you'll get all the painkillers in the world."

"Which way will it be, north-east or north-west?"

Jaune glanced back at Pyrrha, silently asking if she had a preference. Pyrrha shrugged.

"Whichever you think is best Weiss," said Jaune. "We'll follow you."

Weiss considered her options for a moment. Then she heard several strange cries coming from the north-west. She'd never heard a Grimm make a sound quite like that. Nor an animal.

"North-east then."

They walked for about ten minutes. They encountered two beowolves, both of which Weiss slaughtered.

Things were looking up.

Then they ran into four initiates.

Jaune disliked them instantly.

And it wasn't just because they made the boy-girl ratio go from three-one to five-three.

Really!

That had nothing to do with it.

There was just something unpleasant about these guys.

Apparently, the group of them had stumbled upon one another within the first two minutes of the initiation. They discovered the relics shortly afterward. Which looked like big golden chess pieces.

Jaune questioned if they were sure those were the relics—because they didn't look particularly hand-crafted—more mass-produced. He was pretty sure he'd seen a _Produced in Vacuo_ stamped along the bottom of one…

He shouldn't have spoken. The moment he did he received a predatorial glare from the largest of the group—Cardin. The other's followed his lead on the matter.

Fortunately, they weren't such assholes that they would ignore Pyrrha freakin' Nikos asking for their help in guarding a cute injured girl.

Although, even in agreeing, Cardin was less than pleasant. "You mean the pack mule over there can't handle it?"

Jaune raised an eyebrow at that choice of insult. He couldn't find it in him to get angry. After all, it was exactly what his sisters called him when he was dragged out onto one of their merciless shopping sprees.

Pyrrha was less unaffected by their words. "I'll have you know Jaune isn't—"

 _Even a huntsman._

That was probably what she was going to say.

Weiss cut her off.

"—is the fastest of us all. And he has the most endurance. In the case of combat, he has the best chance of staying ahead of the Grimm and keeping Ruby out of danger."

Jaune watched some silent conversation take place between Pyrrha and Weiss, an exchange of looks. He was certain the two had met for the first time recently—yet they were already communicating wordlessly? Maybe there really was something to this "your partner is the first one you see" business.

Whatever Weiss was telepathically relaying to Pyrrha the champion seemed to receive it since they were suddenly on the same page.

"Right, Jaune should just focus on keeping Ruby far away from any Grimm we encounter. The rest of us will handle dispatching them."

Huh.

Jaune wasn't sure why the others were keeping the fact that he wasn't a huntsman a secret. Wouldn't these guys get off his back if they knew he was just a civilian with recently unlocked aura?

Well, it didn't matter.

As long as they were willing to help protect Ruby, they could call him whatever the hell they wanted.

"You know," began Cardin. "Now that we're here, you girls can go finish initiation." His chest puffed. "We'll even show you where the relics are."

Jaune watched Weiss and Pyrrha exchange a quick glance. He wasn't sure how to feel about Cardin's offer. On the one hand, he absolutely, positively, did _not_ want to be left alone with the large boy. It wouldn't be so bad if Ruby wasn't sprawled across his back unconscious, but without her support it would just be him, Cardin, and Cardin's lackeys.

On the other hand, he was really messing up Weiss's and Pyrrha's day, wasn't he? What if they didn't pass because they chose to help him and Ruby? This was probably their _dream_. Had his very presence ruined it?

From that point of view, maybe the girls should go complete the mission.

He and Ruby would probably be safe enough with Cardin and company.

"Are the relics near any visible exit point for the forest?" questioned Weiss.

"No."

"Then we'll have to decline," chirped Pyrrha.

Cardin looked genuinely confused at their refusal. "I don't think you all understand. We can take care of the mule and the cripple, while you…"

Cardin trailed off.

The Schnee had turned a frigid glare toward him. Her voice was just as icy as her eyes.

"Neither Pyrrha nor I will be abandoning our task of escorting Jaune and Ruby. We are traveling with them until they are clear of this forest."

Cardin visibly bristled at her tone, but gradually grinned. "Oh, so you're not _just_ escorting Ruby. You're escorting the mule too." He looked at Jaune with something like amusement. "You want to give me a neigh horsey?"

Jaune just exhaled roughly. Thank god Weiss and Pyrrha weren't leaving him behind with this moron.

Pyrrha spoke up. Her tone was respectful, pleasant, and polite. "I understand that you are attempting to antagonize and rile Jaune—despite his unflappable patience. But you are only succeeding in irritating me. So, if you are physically capable of it, please be quiet."

Jaune's had to snap his jaw shut, lest a bug fly in.

She'd seemed so…subdued a mere moment ago—like the kind of person so painfully polite she'd endure just about anything with a smile. Then he remembered the rigorous test she had put Weiss through a few minutes prior—just to prove she was worthy of her partnership.

Pyrrha was nice—but she clearly didn't mess around. The expression with which she was staring at Cardin was anything but polite. Sure, it wasn't quite rage or fury. But on a girl who acted as kind as Pyrrha, even mild irritation seemed extreme.

"Hey!" exclaimed one of Cardin's group. His name might have been Dove or Russel or something. "We're doing you all a favor!"

"Yeah," agreed Cardin. "Careful, or you'll be on your own again."

"Really?" questioned Weiss. "I wonder what the headmaster's response would be when he found out the four of you abandoned an injured future-huntress—endangering her life—or worse yet if something actually happened to Ruby after you left? I imagine that would be the end of your careers right there—and believe me there would be repercussions beyond that."

"Like what?" snarled Cardin.

"Like Pyrrha and I destroying you."

Jaune glanced at Pyrrha, wondering what she thought about Weiss making threats in her name.

Huh.

Her stony glare was still locked on Cardin. She seemed to be on the same page.

Cardin's entire face began to redden. His nostrils flared and his lips flattened. For a moment Jaune thought he would explode on Weiss. Scream, yell, maybe even hit her.

Then the boy turned his attention to Pyrrha, still pissed. But he said and did nothing.

Then he turned towards Jaune.

"Can't help but notice the _midget_ said it'd be her and the _freak_ destroying us. Didn't even count you as a threat, did they mule?"

Jaune had ignored Cardin up to this point. And if the boy had simply continued to insult him, call him a mule and make neighing noises, well, Jaune would have been fine with that. But something about this _particular_ line of conversation didn't sit right with him. The words escaped him before he could stop himself. "You're not wrong. I'm not very strong. But if you do something stupid and Ruby suffers for it, I promise, I'll make you pay."

Jaune felt a little stupid, threatening a guy who could easily put him in the ground. But he threatened him, nonetheless. And he meant it too. Sure, he wouldn't win a straight fight. Or a curved one. Or a parabolic one. Or any kind of fight really.

But he could still drop an anvil on him or something.

"You th—"

Cardin's furious voice was cut off by the sound of a massive girth ripping through undergrowth and branches.

It was a large Ursa.

Jaune's heart stuttered as he stared at the heaving mass of inky muscle. The creature was thick beyond belief, made only more intimidating by the bone plating interspersed over its rippling body. Then there were the jagged spikes covering it. Each one as long as a short sword—and just as sharp.

Jaune thought the Beowolves were terrifying. They had nothing on this death-dealing monstrosity.

He released an involuntary whimper.

Somehow…

Even though it was so quiet.

Somehow…

Even though there were six hunters surrounding him, dropping into fighting stances…

Somehow, his little noise of fear brought the monster's attention baring down on him. Jaune could not help but stare into those red eyes.

And the strangest thing happened.

His fear began to bleed away.

Maybe.

Maybe it would leave them alone?

It was a ridiculous thought. But it hadn't charged yet, so maybe…

Then someone shot the damn thing. It roared so loud the trees quivered and leaves fell. Jaune's fear returned full force.

And then—because the universe hated him the most—three more giant Ursa joined the first.

A girlish scream escaped his lips.

I*I*I

This was fine.

Everything was fine.

It was just one Ursa. A big one, to be sure. But still, just one.

Weiss glanced at Pyrrha. The champion was in a good position. Close to Jaune and Ruby, but a few feet away so that she could engage at close range without endangering them.

Weiss had positioned herself similarly to Pyrrha but on Jaune and Ruby's opposite side. She was also a little closer to the pair.

There was no way she could engage a Grimm of this sheer mass at close range, but she could at least use glyphs to grant her, Jaune, and Ruby a quick escape if the beast closed the distance on them.

Now, all they needed was for Cardin and his uncouth cohorts to engage. They did not need to deal a killing blow or even do much damage. If they slowed it down, she and Pyrrha could batter it into submission at range.

She was about to communicate as much to the others, but Cardin and his group stepped forward without being told. Either they were not completely braindead—or they just wanted to smash the Grimm and had no strategy to speak of—either one worked for Weiss.

Then Dove—she was pretty sure that was his name, but was he Sky?—fired a shot at the bear. Weiss was not sure why he bothered, there was no way a standard round fired into the shoulder of that monster would even tickle it.

Or at least that was what she thought. And she was partially right.

The Ursa did not giggle upon being hit. Instead, it released a roar of pure fury. A scream of condensed malice.

Jaune's scream joined the bear's a second later.

Then three more Ursa joined the first, each bigger than the last. Weiss's wide eyes flickered over the four behemoths.

"They are all Ursa Majors…?"

Unlike Beowolves, Ursai weren't considered pack Grimm. It was well known that Ursa Minors would occasionally collect around a single Ursa Major and follow it around. But generally, those were small and temporary groups.

Ursa Major's did not even form temporary groups. As the alphas of their species, Ursa Majors that ran into one another usually engaged in a fight for territory.

Sure, it wasn't unusual for Ursa Majors to hold off on fighting one another in favor of killing their favorite prey, humans, but that didn't mean they would stand together, that didn't mean they would cooperate.

Yet there they were, four massive Grimm, eyes locked on…

Weiss glanced at the focus of the creatures' attention. Ruby. The most vulnerable of their group.

This…this wasn't going to go well.

"Cardin—"

She was going to tell him to back up. To present a united front with her and Pyrrha. That there was no way they could slow down the Ursai long enough for she and Pyrrha to keep them at range.

But then the Ursai moved. One charged directly towards Dove and Russel. Both, wisely, got the hell out of the way. The other barreled towards Cardin. Cardin responded by slamming his mace down onto its crown.

The bone mask shattered—which was great. But Cardin was too caught up in the minor victory of the blow to notice the third Ursa's paw swinging towards his chest. Cardin flew back, aura flaring twice. Once when he was struck. And a second time when his back hit the tree.

He slid down with a groan.

Sky Lark stood strong against the fourth Ursa.

For about a quarter of a second.

Then he threw himself to the left, hard, and ran toward Cardin.

Weiss rotated her chamber to her ice dust. She could not afford to mess this up. With a practiced flick of her wrist, a spike of ice shot up through the skull of the Ursa Cardin had managed to down.

It was the smallest of the four. But at least it reduced their numbers.

However, the remaining three were still baring down on them. They had slowed down momentarily for Cardin and friends but didn't even bother following up on them. They wanted the aura-less injured girl on Jaune's back. And they wanted her now.

"Um…"

Weiss's eyes flicked toward Jaune.

His body was tense, rigid, his legs shaking.

Was she that petrified the first time she faced down a Grimm?

Then again, four Ursa Majors at once wasn't the usual introduction, was it?

"Jaune! Snap out of it! We're moving!"

She glanced at Pyrrha and was given the slightest nod. The champion had noticed that the Ursa were after Ruby as well. Which meant she would capitalize the moment the opening presented itself. Weiss focused, willing a motion glyph into existence under her and under Jaune.

"Jump to your left, hard!"

Weiss was not sure how much Jaune and Ruby would weigh combined, but she figured they would be _at least_ three times her weight. So, she put four times the power she put into her own glyph and hoped they would travel just as far.

It worked.

Of course, of the two, only she was ready to suddenly fly twenty-five feet to the left. Jaune landed on his feet, stumbled forward, and smashed face first into a tree.

Fortunately, his aura took most of the blow.

Weiss's attention returned to the threat. The Ursai tried to maneuver just as fluidly as she and Jaune had—well, her mostly—to continue their pursuit, but their large bodies had too much forward momentum. They continued to slide forward at they attempted to perform a hairpin turn.

It was…odd, to say the least.

Sure, it made sense that Grimm targeted those in pain and who were weakened. They could sense aura and negative emotions after all. But to see all three ignore Pyrrha, even the one closest to her, in favor of chasing Ruby? She at least thought they would split them up.

Of course, for a warrior of Pyrrha's caliber, even the slightest exposure of an enemy's back was enough to capitalize. She scored a gash on one of the hindlegs of the Ursa closest to her. The slash caused the creature to stumble. Pyrrha used that opportunity to maneuver dash in front of it, effectively cutting it off from Jaune and Weiss.

And then there were two.

Pyrrha would deal with the one she had isolated—she was too strong to have trouble with it. But however many seconds that took was time Weiss would need to keep Jaune and Ruby alive on her own.

Or not.

She spotted Dove and Russel sprinting towards her position. They were behind the Ursa but if she could immobilize them, they could deal some easy damage. A motion glyph formed under her as she dashed forward to meet the two Ursa. She prepared to use all her ice dust at once.

The ice entrapment was supposed to get them both. It only managed to grab one. Fortunately, she had managed to freeze the one nearest to her after her sudden dash. Unfortunately, it was the smaller of the two remaining. The other, the largest, leapt clear of the ice even as it began to form. It was still heading toward Jaune. She rotated her chambers and turned. She would have to hit it with enough fire dust that it was blown off course.

Then she heard ice breaking. Her mind raced; her body moved instinctively.

The Ursa she had trapped wasn't so trapped. She had a second, maybe less. And Dove and Russel, rather than attacking the one she had incapacitated, had chosen to pursue the enemy retaining movement—a wise choice if they assumed her ice would hold the Ursa for a substantial length of time. As it was… Weiss snapped Myrtenaster towards the enraged Grimm, stabbing into its eye, and releasing the fire attack she had previously…prepared…for…

She snapped her attention back towards Jaune as the Grimm beside her erupted.

At some point Jaune had maneuver Ruby off his back and into his arms. It almost looked as if he was offering her up to the charging Grimm.

Then he flung her, screaming, "catch!"

It was quite the throw. Likely enhanced by adrenaline and first-time aura use.

It sent Ruby flying over the Ursa, past the lethal spikes, and into a shocked Russel Thursh's arms.

Then the Ursa hit Jaune.

And it just…

It just kept going.

One second Jaune was there and so was an Ursa.

And the next, the two were gone.

"Jaune!" she screamed.

There was a quarter-second of shock.

Was he dead? Had she failed?

There was a quarter-second of anger.

If he was dead, someone was going to pay. Ozpin, Glynda, and whoever the hell else was at fault for him being here.

Then there was a quarter-second of realization.

She needed to go after him. He had aura. Maybe every bone in his body hadn't been shattered and he wasn't being torn apart yet.

Motion glyphs stretched out before her as she zipped in the direction Jaune had disappeared in.

The upturned dirt, broken branches, and torn foliage continued for fifty feet before ending in a small clearing.

When her brain processed what was happening, Weiss's heart nearly stopped. She raised Myrtenaster and tried to…

Empty. The cartridge was empty.

She'd used all her fire dust on the last Ursa.

She had another cartridge with more fire dust—but that would require rotating the chamber and she didn't have time.

She still had the pointy end of Myrtenaster, but that would require closing the distance and she didn't have time.

She just…didn't have time.

Not when the massive Ursa was on top of Jaune. Its front paws pinning down both his arms. Its massive body pinning his lower body, And its mouth only inches away from his face.

What was it like to watch a person's head get crushed in the jaws of a powerful Grimm?

She had a feeling she was about to find out.

And then something flew by her. It touched her hair as it sped past, barely perceptible, whipping platinum locks into her face.

It was a golden beam.

It streaked through the clearing so quickly the grass parted as it traveled above. The Ursa's head, it's jaw, it's teeth, it's hateful angry eyes…it all just exploded, vaporized.

Miló didn't stop after destroying the Grimm. It traversed the rest of the clearing and then punched straight through a tree. It buried itself nearly three feet into the ground a few feet beyond.

Weiss slowly looked over her shoulder, eyes impossibly wide.

There she was.

The Mistralian champion, ten feet behind her, arm outstretched in, not quite a throwing motion but something like it.

Seeing Pyrrha there. And hearing Jaune moan, head still fully attached to his shoulders was too much.

Weiss's legs gave out in a surge pure relief. She collapsed onto her butt.

"Pyrrha," she croaked. "Thank the gods. For a second I thought…"

Pyrrha nodded, expression somber. "I did too."

The redhead helped her back to her feet. They both hurried over to Jaune. "Jaune are you alright?" asked Pyrrha.

Jaune moaned. "Yeah…I'm fine. I feel like a pancake and my entire body is one giant bruise but…I'm just being whiny. Unlocking my aura…good call Weiss."

Weiss couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of condition Jaune would be in if they hadn't made the tactically sound decision to unlock her aura.

"Thank you," she replied. "Throwing Ruby away and tanking a charging Ursa like that was…very impressive."

"Ruby!" Jaune sat up suddenly. He winced in pain but did not mention it. "Is Ruby okay!?"

Pyrrha fielded the question. "Ruby is fine Jaune. D….R…The one with the mohawk caught her."

Jaune visibly relaxed. But only for a moment. He slowly pushed himself to his feet. "Well, come on." He sucked air. "We can't leave her with those morons. And she needs to see a doctor."

"You probably need to see a doctor as well," remarked Weiss.

"I'm fine. I'm fine."

Weiss and Pyrrha watched him push himself to his feet. They watched him begin walking in Ruby's direction. Even as he walked, his staggering became less and less pronounced.

"You weren't exaggerating. He must have incredible aura reserves." Weiss hummed.

Untrained? Of course. But his willingness to face down a Grimm for a friend? To put his life on the line? Legacy was a strong thing.

He said he was a musician.

He probably was one.

But he was a musician with huntsman blood. No doubt there.

"Larger than mine," replied Pyrrha, as she returned Miló to her back.

Weiss nodded and returned her attention to Jaune's retreating form. Before snapping her attention back to Pyrrha.

When had she recovered her weapon?

It had left the clearing, passed through a tree, and ricocheted into the ground!

Had she left her side?

Was there a moment where she was so distracted that she hadn't noticed the Mistralian's absence?

"Weiss," Pyrrha's voice brought her back to reality as the armored warrior began to follow Jaune. "I wish to have… _words_ with the headmaster when this is all said and done. Will you—"

"Be right by your side, with just as many _words_?" interrupted Weiss, shoving the question of Pyrrha's weapon retrieval to the back of her mind.

She recalled the feeling of absolute helplessness and despair she'd experience in that moment where she knew there was nothing she could do to save Jaune. Nothing that would be fast enough. No way to help a boy who, like her was trapped in the prison of a family-name.

It was as if the Ursa had been about to devour her alongside him.

That sensation…

That burning freezing blistering feeling.

That was Ozpin's fault.

For now, they needed to focus on getting out of this forest and getting Ruby medical attention. But afterwards. Ozpin would know _exactly_ how upset she was about all this.

"Agreed," said Pyrrha.

Weiss blinked. Had she said that out loud?

I*I*I

Ozpin studied the four students in front of him.

Three were furious. The fourth was out of it, hopped up on pain killers, legs trapped in two giant casts, and seated in a reclining wheelchair.

"Miss Rose, I was pleased to hear you will be making a full recovery."

Ruby looked up at him with something that might have been mistaken as clarity. "Y-youuu, really, really, really, lover me? I'm s-sorrrryyy. My heart already belongs to my darling! Isn't that righttttt my dear? Come here Crescent Rose." Ruby reached for—and missed—the I.V. drip on her left. She made a few more attempts before, huffing she gave up. But not before mumbling, "stop playing hard-to-get…"

"Is there any particular reason we're here headmaster?" said Weiss, testily. "Ruby clearly needs her rest."

"Well," began Ozpin carefully.

He had a plan. And these were just students. He could do this.

Still…

Facing this Schnee fury was like being submerged in a tub of dry ice.

"Since the three of you elected to stay in the medical area, rather than attend the team assignments, I wanted to personally congratulate you all for successfully completing initiation and forming team _Rip_ , led by Weiss Schnee."

He had hoped being named team leader would curb Weiss Schnee's anger.

It did not.

" _Rip_ ," replied Weiss. "Wouldn't happen to be spelled WRJP—would it?"

"Well, none of your names start with a vowel so the team name required some…flexible thinking."

Weiss scoffed. "I thought we failed, since we didn't locate the _relics_." There was a vehemence to her words that was almost tangible.

"You proved yourself capable of fighting Grimm. And the relics were meant to serve as a focal point of the initiation, the objective, so to speak—but attaining one meant little if not for the hardships endured while doing so. You endured the hardships just like any other successful student. And made the morally and tactically correct decision to save a comrade, rather than complete an insignificant assignment. Surely you did not believe you would be penalized for doing so?"

It was at this moment Pyrrha spoke up. "No disrespect sir, but we weren't quite sure what to expect from you in terms of _decision making_."

The redhead's eyes slid toward Jaune as she spoke. There was a whole lot less acid in her tone compared to Weiss—but from what Ozpin had heard of her, any acid was a lot of acide.

"Ah," said Ozpin. "The Goliath in the room then." He sipped his coffee. His nerves settled. He would have to be delicate here. Thank the Maidens he had a surgeon's touch. "It has come to my attention that you," he studied Jaune Arc. "Partook in initiation without the proper training. So much so, that your aura was unlocked _during_ initiation."

"I wouldn't say I partook," replied Jaune. "More like I was hard-forced."

"Yes, well…" Ozpin remembered Jaune's terrified scream when he was chucked into the forest. "Glynda can often be…exuberant."

"Is that what they call nearly killing a civilian these days?" snarked Weiss. "Exuberant?" The heiress looked around the room. "Where is she anyway? How could we possibly have this conversation without her? Also—if you are already aware of Jaune's circumstances, how dare you name us a team? As if he's staying here?"

"First," began Ozpin. "Please understand that Miss Goodwitch would _never_ intentionally endanger a civilian—or one of her students. What happened with Mister Arc was an accident. She—and myself—were misled. We weren't just of the belief that Mister Arc was a huntsman trainee. We believed he was close to a fully trained huntsman's level."

"Why would you all think that though?" said Jaune. "The application I—my sister sent in was my actual credentials. All that was on there was how little combat experience I have, how bad my math grades were, and how much I love instruments. My transcripts were from a normal school for god's sake!"

"The application your sister sent in…?" said Ozpin, acting as if he was genuinely confused. "You mean that joke application?"

"If you knew it was a joke," shouted Jaune. "Then why did you accept—no— _force_ me to come here!"

Ozpin emitted a long groan; one he was certainly playing up but wasn't quite fake either. "You were not admitted based on the merits of the second application that we assumed you sent in as a joke Mister Arc. You were admitted based on the merits of the first."

"Huh?" Now Jaune looked and sounded confused.

As well he should, considering he had only sent one application. And Ozpin had only received one.

But a little thing like "reality" had never stopped Ozpin before. Like hell he would let it stop him now. The headmaster stood, picked up the folder on his desk, and offered it to Jaune.

He watched the Arc review the documents within, his eyes growing larger and larger.

"This is dated…three days before I sent in my actual application."

Ozpin nodded.

Jaune flipped through a few more pages. "Aerial insertion by Giant Nevermore…?" he muttered. A few seconds later he mumbled, "fourteen years of combat training? But I'm only seventeen…"

His jaw didn't go slack until he saw the electronic guardian's signature at the bottom. His original application had left it blank. Ozpin's…reinterpretation listed a man Jaune knew quite well.

"Grandpa!?"

"Yes. Now, normally we put a bit more effort into verifying the claims of huntsmen regarding their personal pupils. However, Rictus…well he has a track record of success and is well respected in the—"

"I get it," interrupted Jaune. "You both screwed me over, but it's mostly Grandpa's fault."

Well, if Jaune insisted that was how it was—who was he to disagree?

Ozpin continued onto his next point. "Please understand that Miss Goodwitch believed you were every bit as powerful a huntsman as your father was at your age. Your application stated as much. There was no malice in her attitude or her actions. A large part of her… _irritation_ with stemmed from her belief that you had a dangerous and arrogant attitude evidenced by the way, after you had been accepted, you sent us, what appeared to be, a second prank application…"

"So, that's why she's been so aggressive…" said Jaune, trailing off thoughtfully.

"Well," said Ozpin. "It certainly has not helped. There is also rather bad blood between Ms. Goodwitch and Rictus. Your first application seemed to indicate he had turned you into a younger version of himself. She was not…pleased."

Jaune nodded slowly.

"Rictus—and your father and aunt, to a certain extent—had a bad habit of being lazy when it came to completing tasks they found boring. Tests, ceremonies, traditions, evaluations…to varying degrees, they each would lie, cheat, not show up, sneak away, or just make horrible excuses. It is a trait we thought likely to have been passed on to you after enduring your Grandfather's hellish training. So, when you, at the last moment, informed Miss Goodwitch and I that you did not wish to participate in initiation because—of all things, you did not have aura… Well, we made the horrible mistake of assuming this was yet another of the Arcs' ludicrous excuses to get out of a task they find monotonous."

"That…" began Jaune.

Ozpin held his breath.

"…makes sense."

Ozpin exhaled quietly. He hid a smile behind a sip of glorious coffee.

One of his objectives was complete. He had diverted a good portion of Jaune's anger toward Rictus. And he had made everything that transpired seem more the fault of Jaune's legacy than any gross negligence on the part of Beacon.

There was more to do.

But it was a start.

Now, how to transition into the next topic?

As if she could hear his thoughts and was looking to help, Weiss spoke up. "Fine, so Jaune's grandfather tricked you into letting him into initiation. And you all did not question anything, even Jaune's own insistence that he not be sent into initiation, because of the Arc name. But what of this team assignment? Jaune is not a huntsman. You knew that before you called us in here. Yet you still opened this conversation by congratulating us for comprising team _WRJP_."

"Ah, thank you for bringing that up Miss Schnee." Ozpin studiously ignored Ruby's lulled head and gentle snore. "While I cannot approve of your grandfather's methods to get you here. I agree with him that you belong at this school."

"W-what?" replied Jaune.

"Headmaster," said Pyrrha. "Jaune doesn't have the training."

"That's true…"

But if Ozpin didn't figure out some way to keep him in this school Glynda would investigate the circumstances under which he left, which would inevitably lead her to find out _everything_.

"But he's an Arc. They tend to have…advantages—both in talent and biology, that others simply don't."

Weiss and Pyrrha looked at Jaune questioningly.

Jaune didn't look away from Ozpin.

"I don't have those advantages."

"How can you know that for certain?" said Ozpin dismissively. "You unlocked your aura today."

"Because Arcs with talent and gifts display it before their aura is unlocked. I have seven sisters. Unless we're dancing. They're all more graceful and athletic than me."

"I've seen talent lie dormant for longer than seventeen years Jaune." He used the boy's first name, to add more weight to the statement. "Miss Nikos, you unlocked Mister Arc's aura. How did you find his reserves?"

"Well," began Pyrrha, glancing at Jaune. "They are…large."

"How large?" pushed Ozpin.

"Well…I'm not great at sensing that sort of thing, but at least two or three times my own…"

Ozpin smiled. "As I would expect of an Arc."

Jaune appeared genuinely surprised to hear how large his aura supply was. Then his wide shocked eyes narrowed. "What does tons of aura mean if I'm terrible in a fight? I get a prolonged death by Grimm?"

"Without training I suppose it would—which brings me to the _grim_ truth of the matter. Having your aura unlocked necessitates some form of training. While it does not make you a beacon to Grimm miles away or anything so severe, the Grimm do are attracted to those with aura radiating off them. And yours is quite large. I fear without the bare minimum skill of being able to fend off one or two Grimm you might endanger yourself…" Ozpin paused a moment, to deliver the sucker punch properly. "…and the people around you."

Jaune blinked rapidly and tugged lightly at his blonde locks. "Are you saying I _have_ to become a huntsman?"

"No," replied Ozpin quickly. "I'm saying it would be safest for both yourself and any individuals around you in the future if you _choose_ to spend a few months, at least, familiarizing yourself with aura manipulation and combat."

Jaune studied his hands.

"It would also give you an opportunity to revaluate your talent as a huntsman."

"I-I see."

Ruby let out an especially loud snore.

"Jaune," Pyrrha spoke up. "Not that I don't want to be on a team with you—because I'm sure that would be simply delightful. But talent or no, do you have any desire to be a huntsman?"

"That," Jaune began. He sighed. "That's complicated."

"Destiny often is Mister Arc."

Jaune groaned. "Not _destiny_ again."

"The decision is yours Mister Arc. I am aware that you came to Vale with the intention to attend the VAA. I assure you, spending a few months here at Beacon will not derail that opportunity."

"Being dead will," muttered Jaune.

He had a point there. Not that Ozpin would admit it.

"Say I said yes to staying here for a while, just a couple of months—which I'm not yet—but say I did. Why would you put me on Weiss, Ruby, and Pyrrha's team? It would be totally unfair to them to have someone with zero training and background tagging along. Plus, wouldn't it be dangerous? When there're missions where teammates need to watch each other's backs? I'd be the weak link."

"You wouldn't have any real missions for a while yet, Mister Arc. And every team has a weaker link. There's no such thing as perfectly balanced power. One of you four must be the weakest. One of you four must be the strongest. But if it sets your mind at ease, I will see to it personally that you are brought up to a respectable combat level."

"And what about when I leave because I couldn't cut it? What happens to WRJP then? How is that fair to them?"

"It's not fair," said Ozpin. "Losing a team member to early retirement, while far better than death, is a situation I would never purposefully thrust my students into."

"But…?" prompted Weiss.

"But," continued Ozpin. "I have faith in nearly four hundred years of Arc lineage. I foresee no outcome aside from Jaune becoming an exemplary huntsman."

"And back to _being an Arc_ …" said Jaune, rubbing his eyes. "Why does it always come back to _being an Arc_?"

Ozpin didn't answer the rhetorical question.

"W-what do you all think?" asked Jaune, glancing from Pyrrha to Weiss.

"I think…" started Pyrrha. "I think this is a decision you have to make on your own. I'd be happy to have you on my team Jaune, even if only for a little while…"

"I see," said Jaune. "Thanks. Weiss?" He turned to face his white-haired teammate.

She studied him critically.

"I will _not_ be on a team with a dolt _and_ an imbecile."

"Ah…"

"So, you and Ruby had best be ready to work hard. Harder than you've ever worked in your lives. Don't expect any mercy just because I can sympathize with your struggles. Expect to catch up with the class or die trying."

"Guess I need to write a will then," said Jaune affably.

Ozpin drained the last vestiges of his glorious coffee, mentally screaming for Jaune to take both offers. To stay at Beacon and to be placed on team WRJP. There was still a bit of indecision on the boy's face. Ozpin decided to snuff that out.

"Mister Arc correct me if I am wrong. But you strike me as the type of man who wishes to help people. Is that true?"

Jaune nodded.

"And your original intent was to do so through your music?"

Jaune nodded again.

"A noble endeavor—and feasible too. But ill-suited for embracing the Arc destiny."

"Which is?"

"To save people, kingdoms, perhaps even all humanity. Arc's achieve that with an ocean of aura, a penchant for combat, and a broken semblance. Just keep in mind, if things ever get truly desperate. If the Grimm descend in droves and threaten to overcome the kingdoms…will music save the world?"

Jaune rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. "No, I guess not."

He had won.

Only one thing left to secure.

"Now, concerning the secrecy of what we have discussed here…"

 **So, a more serious chapter than others in the Guitar Huntsman series.**

 **But I needed to do a lot of stuff here. Establish a connection between Jaune, Ruby, Pyrrha, and Weiss, get through initiation, and portray a reasonable argument for Jaune staying at Beacon.**

 **Just a lot to do, so not much time for the cracky humor.**

 **Keeep On BELIEEEEEEEEEVEENNNN**

 **~Vronsurd**

 **Beta'd by MysteryBeta**


	8. Chapter 8

**This chapter and the last were originally going to be one mega chapter. (That's why they're being released back-to-back-read here as: within four days of each other.)**

 **So, I decided to go ahead and read my reviews from the last chapter. (Been a bit out of it since I wanted to finish this one.)**

 **And like…**

 **Haha...**

 **Anyway here, have another chapter—or rather, really, the second part to the last chapter.**

 **Guitar Huntsman Chapter 8**

"Yeah…I get it. You don't want this whole thing to come off as favoritism towards the Arc family."

"Precisely, you can understand why that wouldn't be ideal for a man in my position. As headmaster I have the dual responsibilities of fairly guiding the student body and producing as many top tier huntsmen as I can with every graduating class. At times these responsibilities conflict…"

"Right," Jaune exhaled. "Alright, I guess…I can keep it quiet. If that's what's for the best?"

"I truly believe it will be." Ozpin noted Jaune still looked troubled, which meant he hadn't entirely assuaged his worries…

But the boy was tired, exhausted even.

Best to let him get some rest and address any further concerns when he was feeling better and was, perhaps, a bit more excited over the prospect of becoming a huntsman.

"Well, Mr. Arc. This has been a truly enlightening conversation. But I think your team has had an extraordinarily long day." He glanced at Ruby, who was drooling on her shoulder. "Especially your partner."

Jaune stared at Ruby for a few seconds, then he smiled weakly. "Yeah, we better get her back to medical before they have a fit. They weren't very happy when you checked her out."

Ozpin watched the four teens walk to the elevator. Weiss and Pyrrha each whispered something to Jaune as they walked. Jaune responded with a light nod. Ozpin turned away from the opening elevator doors with a small, triumphant smile. He studied the view before him, the sky stretched out, an infinite blanket over the world. Today, it was a mixture of reds and oranges. A gorgeous collage of colors.

He'd seen it thousands of times. The sun setting. But it never failed to fascinate him. Every day it rose. Every day it set. A cycle that never ended.

Not unlike himself.

Everything he'd done today wasn't a permanent solution…

But then, as he had learned long ago—there was no such thing as a permanent solution.

There was only a string of temporary ones, one after another. The key was learning how to string all those temporary things together.

To _keep_ chaining them in a never-ending process until, eventually, from a certain perspective, everything was fine, all the time.

"Goodbye today, what troubles have you tomorrow?" he whispered to himself.

Ozpin frowned as two sets of footsteps, one with the click of heels and the other with a metallic thud approached his desk. There was a scuffing scratching sound as two chairs were…

Pulled out?

No, more like moved to the side.

"Headmaster."

Ah, he should have known the day wouldn't end so…easily.

He did not turn. Not yet.

"You did not depart with your team, Miss Schnee, Miss Nikos?"

"We have some…" Pyrrha hummed. "… _concerns_. I suppose that would be an appropriate word."

"Perhaps it would be," said Weiss. "If we were in a competition for understatements of the century."

Ozpin groaned, pinching his sinuses. He'd hoped one conversation would be enough to handle them all. But he should have known better. Ruby was hopped up on drugs—and even without them could be won over with a plate of cookies. Meanwhile Jaune was so internally conflicted about _how_ he was meant to help people that he could be knocked over with a straw.

Convincing these two however—to take on an untrained, unqualified, civilian on their huntsman team—because he has higher than average aura?

Ozpin stretched his neck. This would take a bit more finagling. He turned towards Weiss and Pyrrha. The partners were serious, angry even. Ozpin could already feel a headache coming on. "Don't tell me you two are already trying to get rid of one of your teammates?" He gave them a small smile.

"Headmaster," began Weiss. "Earlier today, Pyrrha and I were discussing how we would handle… conversing with you. It was, admittedly a brief discussion, cut short when you actually summoned us."

"Oh?" said Ozpin. Curious.

He took his seat.

Weiss and Pyrrha remained standing.

"Yes," continued Weiss. "We decided that if you were not aware of Jaune's status as a civilian, we would inform you. And that if you were, we would simply _watch_ and _listen_ before drawing any conclusions."

"I see," said Ozpin. So, he was right. They were upset with him for saddling them with a civvy. Well, it was an unusual arrangement, he could easily admit that. And since the duo likely knew little of what it meant to be an Arc, they wouldn't be pacified by Jaune's family name.

"I admit, Pyrrha did a much better job than I did remaining quiet. There was…much that I wanted to say."

"Well, let's hear it then," Ozpin made a move-it-along sort of motion.

Pyrrha spoke this time. "Weiss and I were both rather confused by Jaune's story when we first heard it. He claimed to have been, essentially, forced to come to Beacon, forced to stay at Beacon, and forced to participate in initiation."

"Which both Pyrrha and I found quite confusing, given the voluntary nature of the huntsman profession

"I wouldn't say he was _forced_ to attend," said Ozpin, beginning to grow wary.

"I would," replied Pyrrha.

"Ah, well. More…a series of circumstances conspi—"

"A series of circumstance that you created, continued, and controlled" interrupted Weiss. "And circumstances can't conspire. People do that. Which brings us to an interesting point. When Jaune was explaining it to us it was hard to…picture. To fathom, really, what he was talking about. Every situation he described sounded as if it could be solved by simply saying _no_ or _wait_ or _I am not a huntsman_. He made it sound as if he had no way out. As if he was being corralled, which didn't make any sense to me _or_ Pyrrha."

"But now it does." Pyrrha smiled.

It wasn't a kind or welcoming smile.

Ozpin had seen that expression on the champion's face. He'd seen it when he was watching footage from her third championship win. The runner-up had called her a slut. She proceeded to break his sword, then his sword arm, and then his pride.

Only after that did she grant him the mercy of a knockout.

"Jaune felt like he couldn't escape because you wanted him here. Maybe because you thought he was some sort of godlike huntsman—or maybe some other reason. You tied him in so many little knots he couldn't untangle himself long enough to escape."

"Ladies, I think you're…reading into this a bit. I would never—"

"We watched you," interrupted Pyrrha.

"Seeing does not mean underst—"

"We just _fucking_ watched you," interrupted Weiss.

The boiling, bubbling, poisonous acidity of Weiss's tone caused Ozpin to pause and reevaluate. He glanced from Pyrrha's gaze, a furious unyielding emerald to Weiss's, a lethal spreading ice.

These weren't two promising young huntresses upset by having a less experienced and less skilled teammate.

These were two extraordinary young women who had spent most of their lives fending off bastards who wanted to use them—and they were downright murderous after watching him pull the same hated manipulation right in front of him.

Well.

Shit.

"If this conversation is about the nature of Mister Arc's enrollment, it is hardly any of your concern—"

"Didn't you just name us a team?" asked Pyrrha. "How is our teammate's wellbeing not any of our concern? How can you expect us _not_ to speak with you concerning your treatment of our members?"

"I—" Ozpin was not even given the chance to start.

"After all," Weiss continued without pausing. "A moment ago, Jaune was visibly distress by just about every word coming out of your mouth."

Pyrrha followed up her partner. "And you did throw him into a forest of Grimm, without aura, without a weapon, without armor, without melee combat skills…without anything…really. Just a hoodie and a guitar."

"That…" began Ozpin.

He was surprised when the girls didn't cut him off, instead watching him expectantly.

"…was Glynda."

Neither Weiss nor Pyrrha seemingly deemed the comment worthy of response. "And we have not even brought up Ruby yet."

"Poor Ruby," Pyrrha's face genuinely fell when she brought up the girl.

"Yes," agreed Weiss. "Poor Ruby, broke her legs carrying the weight of our _headmaster's_ mistakes."

"Listen," cut in Ozpin, somewhat abruptly. "What happened today was a tragic accident. No one wanted it. Mistakes were made. Unforeseeable events took place and circumstances evolved. If you're trying to imply that I had any desire to see _any_ of the initiates hurt today…"

Weiss stared at him. So did Pyrrha.

Weiss was the one who broke the silence. "Neither of us think or claim that you were trying to murder any of the students…"

Well, at least that was clear.

"…although it hardly matters whether you were or were not _trying_ , considering your willful criminal negligence and frivolous reckless endangerment could have just as easily resulted in the same."

Ah, those words sounded like actual crimes.

Crimes that would be read and listed to him shortly before a judge sent him to prison.

"Is assuming that someone, who applied to a huntsman academy, has his or her aura unlocked really criminal negligence?"

"In hindsight headmaster," said Pyrrha. "Launching us into that forest without thoroughly checking, not just that we had aura but that our aura levels were high enough for the assignment seems—"

"That initiation process has remained unchanged for years Miss Nikos," said Ozpin, struggling to regain some equilibrium. "It is a tried and tested method for drawing out and displaying the talent of the next generation."

"It seems the word you are striving for is _antiquated_ ," replied Weiss. "As in, perhaps, the initiation process was created before the introduction of digital methods to measure aura. Before a simple scan could verify if a student was fit for the test."

"It is a harsh and brutal examination of abilities—but Beacon is in the business of making huntsmen and huntresses. Harsh and brutal tests are necessary. And, unfortunately, accidents do happen. And when the stakes are high, accidents often reek of tragedy. That is simply the life of a huntsman."

"The life of a _huntsman_ …" repeated Pyrrha.

"On further consideration headmaster," said Weiss. "I believe this situation—a civilian carelessly tossed into a huntsman initiation—under your current system, could occur even if said civilian was not from a prominent huntsman family. Imagine if a civilian, with no real idea of what it means to be a huntsman or huntress, were to fake their transcripts and lie until the very moment they were to be launched into the woods—a simple scan would reveal that their aura remains locked. Instead they are launched to their certain death."

"That would be…" Ozpin swallowed. There was nothing for it but to concede here. "That would be tragic."

"Oh, it certainly would be tragic. It would also be negligent, careless, wasteful, and—perhaps most importantly— _your fault_."

Ozpin parted his lips.

Pyrrha cut him off. "Don't you dare say Glynda."

He closed his mouth.

"And what of Miss Goodwitch?" asked Weiss, switching tracks alongside her partner.

Ozpin struggled not to flinch. "What of her?"

"You indicated that a significant portion of the responsibility for what happened to Jaune and Ruby rests on her shoulders. But she has yet to be present to accept or deny that responsibility."

"I shall have words with Miss Goodwitch," Ozpin hastily lied. The further he kept Glynda from all this, the better.

"As shall we."

Ozpin wished he hadn't drained his coffee earlier. He wished he'd thought to make a backup thermos. Maybe then he would have been able to fend off the staccato palpitations of his own heart. "That's not necessary. You should both allow me to choose who and what information we release concerning Jaune Arc—his circumstances are—"

"Best kept secret," inserted Pyrrha. "We heard."

"And I speak for both Pyrrha and myself when I say we find that notion transparently self-serving. However, depending on what Jaune wants from all this, keeping _some_ aspects of his circumstances quiet may be ideal. So, you _may_ have your wish granted in that regard. That said, if you think there's a chance in hell, we are going to ignore the faculty member who nearly killed Jaune and, for all intents and purposes, broke Ruby's legs herself…"

"I assure you, Glynda did not know that Mister Arc was without aura."

"Miss Goodwitch is an adult." Weiss waved away his words as if they were pollen. "She can defend herself, when we approach her."

"But what will she even say in her defense?" mused Pyrrha, turning her attention away from Ozpin and toward Weiss.

The Schnee heiress shrugged as she met her partner's eyes. "Maybe she will pin it all on the headmaster, like he did to her."

"Hm," said Pyrrha. "Somehow, I doubt that. Unless I've completely misread her. She strikes me as the responsible one."

"She flung an untrained, unarmed, unarmored, aura-less civilian into a _huntsman_ _initiation_."

"Honestly, the initiation was probably less dangerous than the throw itself," said Pyrrha thoughtfully.

"That's only true up until the point where, if you were even a little bit slower, Jaune's head would have been twisted off."

And with that final comment the two girls turned back to Ozpin, faces suddenly granite again.

Ugh, this…

This wasn't something he could handle without coffee.

"Listen, I can appreciate what you girls are doing here. Such team cohesion in your first couple of hours as a unit is a sign of great things to come from team WRJP. That said, you're presenting a united front against someone who is not your foe. _I_ am not your enemy. I won't insult your intelligence by pretending I don't know what you're talking about. Yes, I was subtly pushing Jaune earlier…"

Weiss rolled her eyes at his use of the word _subtly_ , while Pyrrha scoffed.

"…and I won't pretend I am operating selflessly and fully out of Mister Arc's interests. But I assure you, nonetheless this place and you all—they are what's best for Jaune. Jaune is an Arc. And an Arc's place is as a huntsman."

Ozpin did not realize how colossally he had misread his audience until two expressions of granite fractured—no—erupted.

Weiss had handled most of the talking up to that point, so he expected her to take the lead on this new tirade.

So, he was surprised when it was instead Pyrrha who slammed her hands down on his desk. He was doubly surprised by what she had to say.

I*I*I

"Jaune is an Arc... And an Arc's place is as a huntsman…"

Something inside Pyrrha broke.

 _"You are a Nikos. And what is a Nikos' place?"_

 _"First."_

 _Pyrrha dodged her father's staff by ducking low, only to get caught on the upswing when he suddenly changed his angle of attack. The tip of the weapon caught her chin, sending her stumbling back._

 _"Do we **ever** settle for less? Do we ever settle for mediocre? Or average? Or less than?" _

_"No."_

 _Pyrrha reached for Akoúo̱ with her semblance, summoning it to her arm. But before she could maneuver her shield, her father's staff slammed into her sternum, driving the air from her lungs and sending her tumbling backward._

 _"Is this all you have? Is this all my daughter amounts too?"_

 _Pyrrha struggled to stand as she struggled to breathe. She gave up on the former after landing on her butt twice. The latter was still a work in progress._

 _"What is a Nikos, Pyrrha?"_

 _Pyrrha gasped several times, trying to get her respiratory system back in order._

 _"I said," growled her father. "What is a Nikos, **Pyrrha**?"_

 _Pyrrha forced herself to speak around gasps. "A champion, father."_

 _"And what, pray tell," began her father as he approached her. "Does it mean to be a champion?"_

 _"I…" Pyrrha started and stopped. She wasn't sure what answer her father expected from here. Usually, this line of questioning ended with "What is a Nikos?" This new question was so broad and generic, and she just knew her father was looking for an answer that was anything but broad and generic. She wondered how upset he would be if she answered wrong or just didn't know._

 _It seemed she was about to find out._

 _"I-I don't know, father."_

 _The cold man stabbed his staff into the ground as if the compact dirt was snow. He left it there, standing vertically, and took a knee before his daughter. One of his calloused hands went to Pyrrha's chin. The other to her cheek._

 _He raised her head, so she was looking directly into his harsh gaze. "A champion, daughter. Does not concern herself with her inferiors. She does not falter in the face of pain. She does not worry over other's envy. She does not succumb to weakness. And she does not lose—not ever. She is self-reliant. She is composed. She stands apart from the rest like a wolf among sheep. She is a paragon. A symbol. The Nikos legacy given flesh and spirit. She is…"_

 _He released her chin and stood, reaching for his staff._

 _"She is transcendent."_

 _"F-father." Pyrrha managed to stand. "That's not…I'm not—"_

 _"You are," he cut her off. "You are a Nikos. If you are anything less than that…then I have no daughter."_

 _Pyrrha's eyes widened into discs. She tried to respond, to reply…_

 _But…_

 _Words escaped her._

 _Her mouth opened and closed a few times._

 _How could he…?_

 _Then her chance to speak was gone. His staff was back in his hands and he was bearing down on her with speeds she could barely keep up with._

Pyrrha's hands slammed against Ozpin's desk, limbs moving without her permission or consent. Her body acting without conscious thought.

She hadn't dwelt on that day, almost a decade ago, in some time. But it never failed to ignite something in her, something angry and violent.

"Who the hell do you think you are!?"

Ozpin's expression remained relatively blank as he looked up at her. But there was the slightest widening of his eyes. A surefire sign that not even he, with all his machinations and manipulation and deception, could anticipate Pyrrha _Nikos_ being anything less than composed. Anything less than a champion.

"Jaune's family! _His family,_ sent him to the VAA. You aren't his father. You don't even know him. You don't even…who the hell are you to make decisions for him? To say what's best for him!? No one gets to do that. No one. But if someone does…? It's certainly not some…some… senile stranger!"

"Miss Nikos—" began Ozpin.

Weiss's interrupting voice was more tightly controlled and reined than Pyrrha's—but it was no less vicious. "It is no secret why I came to Beacon. Whose shadow I wish to step out of. And you should also be aware just how furious my father was over my decision. He wanted me an arms-length away. A tool within easy reach. That is what it means to be a Schnee. To play your role and to play it perfectly. Until such time as you are rewarded—by being given a greater role or by being cast aside like the trash he's always seen you as. _That_ is what my _father_ wanted for me. _That_ is what I am supposed to accept as part of _being a Schnee_. And I said no. If my father doesn't have the right to turn me into the perfect Schnee what the hell are you putting into your coffee that would make you think for even one _iota_ of a second that you have the _privilege_ of speaking into Jaune's life?"

Ozpin swallowed. His mouth opened.

Pyrrha was ready to interrupt any more bullshit. Her voice was on a trigger.

But Ozpin's mouth closed without him saying a thing.

Pyrrha took this as an opportunity to continue. "I came here because I was tired of being used. I knew what it looked like. I knew how to avoid it. But I couldn't. Can you guess why?"

Ozpin look old beyond his years—however many those were.

"Because _everyone_ was trying to use you."

"Correct," agreed Pyrrha. "I could see it in their eyes. I could hear it in their voices. My so-called _friends_ liked me because I was famous and well-off. My father was just continuing the tradition of the Nikos name being more important than the people who bore it. And my instructors just wanted to add _trained the Invincible Girl_ to their resumes."

Ozpin looked away from her.

Pyrrha continued even if Ozpin could no longer meet her gaze. "You know what's funny? If it was me that you were trying to coerce and cajole. I'd notice it. I'd see it. And I'd hate it. But I'd probably go along with it, smiling the whole time. It's just what I'm used to—it's what my life has always been. But watching you do that to Jaune—who's clearly never had to deal with it before…it just…"

She trailed off, trying to find the right words.

"It infuriates her. It infuriates the both of us." Weiss picked up where she left off. The control she had managed to keep over her voice was slipping. "Who do you think you are? How can you think that's alright? How can you _pretend_ that you and Goodwitch nearly killing him doesn't matter!?"

"And Ruby…" reminded Pyrrha.

"Of course, Ruby. How could I forget?" Weiss continued to rage. "He told us about your first meeting, with him and Ruby. He told us about the cookies. Jaune's not your only target, is he? You want to use both!"

Ozpin exhaled roughly. "I…" He inhaled and exhaled again. When he spoke again his voice couldn't quite be called emotional, but the usual lackadaisical apathy had sprouted wings and taken off. "You wouldn't understand, neither of you. You're too…young."

"Too young…?", repeated Pyrrha, digesting the words.

" _Too Young_?" she said with a bit more force.

"I know exactly how terrible what you're doing is—because I'm young! My father started training me to be the stupid conduit of the Nikos legacy when I was four! I was four when he started messing with my head. Four years old! He—" Pyrrha didn't know where she was going with this, what she was going to say—but she didn't get the chance to continue.

Ozpin's voice finally raised to, what one might call, a yell. "And are you not satisfied with the results? For all his callousness? For all his cruelty? For all his indifference? Are you not happy to be a champion? To be one of the most promising of your generation? To be known as the _Invincible Girl_? Every win in the arena? Every trophy added to your collection?"

"The problem, headmaster," Pyrrha ground out. "Is that that stupid title is _all_ I have to be happy about. And to make matters worse it's a lie. I'm not invincible. I'm a strong fighter with a semblance that renders most conventional weaponry useless against me. I can't even be proud of my title—because it's bullshit. I know it. Any experienced fighter could see it! All that title really does is drive away people who might have actually come to care about me one day. And. Piss. Me. Off!"

As Pyrrha's voice rose various metal instruments in the room began to rise.

Ozpin's paperweight…

His glasses…

The chairs behind them…

Various pens, pencils, and instruments.

There was also a mass groaning noise as the various gears that lined the massive office ground to a halt.

"Don't you dare say I don't _understand_! I-I…" she trailed off in helpless fury.

Weiss's hand, lightly landing on her arm, brought her back to Remnant. The various objects affected by her semblance clattered to the ground and the room's network of gears resumed their work.

"I think we are done here, Pyrrha. Let's go find Jaune."

Pyrrha nodded, relieved she hadn't lost complete control of her power. Pyrrha followed Weiss's lead, tempering her own, longer strides to match the girl's shorter steps. When they reached the door, Weiss turned back to Ozpin. Pyrrha did so as well.

"You made me the leader of team WRJP, correct?"

Ozpin nodded.

"Then I'm speaking as the leader of my team. Whether Jaune decides to leave or stay—keep away from him. Keep away from me. Keep away from Pyrrha. Keep away from Ruby. I don't know what it is you want from them. I don't know if you also want something from me and Pyrrha. But you can't have it. We won't give it to you. I don't care if you say it's the most important or noble cause in the world. Stay away from us—all of us."

The elevator door opened. Weiss stepped through.

Pyrrha stopped in the elevator threshold, preventing the door from closing. She turned back toward Ozpin. Her voice was normal again. She had regained some of her mental balance. She still felt strange. But at least she wasn't about to cause a magnetic storm.

"Headmaster…"

Ozpin looked at her.

"I don't know what you're doing. Or why. But all this…you're just going to bring down the roof on top of you. It doesn't matter how much you gain by forgetting how to be a human being" she stepped back into the elevator. She thought about how much she despised her father. "You've already lost everything that matters."

The doors closed.

Pyrrha slumped almost immediately.

Had she really said all that? Done all that? She felt her back hit the wall as she took two steps backward. She slid down until she was seated.

"Are you alright Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha slowly nodded.

"I think so. I just need some sleep."

"I feel the same."

"But we can't."

"No," agreed Weiss. "We cannot. Not until we speak with Jaune."

Pyrrha sighed. "That might be an even harder conversation."

Weiss looked at her quizzically. "How so?"

Pyrrha looked up at the shorter girl. "I think I would have enjoyed having Jaune on our team."

"Ah," said Weiss.

A few seconds of silence passed between them. Pyrrha adjusted her armor.

"Well…" began Weiss.

Pyrrha looked up and frowned. Weiss wasn't looking at her. In fact, she was looking the opposite direction.

"…I will freely admit that my initial interest in you Pyrrha was because of your reputation. And the ways by which it might benefit my own. I have always loathed when people treated me like a prop and my defense has often been to use others similarly. However, the idea of a true friend, with whom our mutual interest in one another is rooted in a genuine respect and like for—"

"Weiss," interrupted Pyrrha. "Are you asking if we can be friends?"

Weiss turned her head back toward Pyrrha. Her face was tinted red. "Yes."

"Hm…" Pyrrha pretended to ponder her options. "On one condition."

"Name it."

"What was it that you promised we would do to our enemies? _Turn them into throws_?"

Weiss turned a darker shade of crimson. "I may have said something like that. Hard to recall."

Pyrrha grinned. "Oh, I recall. Just promise me we'll start with the bastards who mess with our team."

Weiss's flush faded as she smirked.

"Obviously."

I*I*I

 _Meanwhile_

 _"And that's why, I need a favor."_

"Um…"

 _"Come on…do I really need to explain everything again?"_

Hell yes, he did!

Ellie felt her facial muscles starting to spasm.

Jaune had called her about twenty minutes ago, attempting to give her a rushed and abbreviated explanation of his life over the past few days.

Ellie wasn't having his rushed description. She was excited to hear how well he thought he would perform at the VAA. When she realized he was claiming to have been trapped at Beacon, she demanded a _much_ more robust account.

She spoke with a practiced calm. "Not everything. Just the part where you got kidnapped into Beacon. Thrown into a forest full of Grimm. Nearly died. And the headmaster is trying to convince you to stay—even though you almost died." Her voice spiked into a scream "Just explain those parts again, Jaune!"

Whoops.

Calm.

Calm.

Calm.

It was surprisingly difficult to achieve calm when she didn't know exactly what she was feeling. There was shock, that Jaune had somehow managed to wind up at Beacon rather than the VAA. There was rage, that some bitch had thrown— _thrown_ —him off a cliff. There was sadness, that Jaune had missed the VAA initiation. And, of course, there was relief, that Jaune was okay. That he was still breathing, smiling, and…well…being Jaune.

 _"That pretty much sums it up though."_

Of course, it did.

"Jaune," Ellie groaned tamping down on the rage for now, just glad that her only brother was alive and well. "What are you doing? Why are you still there? Don't tell me you're still stuck on this stupid destiny fantasy? I thought we agreed. You're a musician. Not a huntsman. A musician."

 _"Ozpin tried to trip me up with the whole destiny thing."_

"And you fell for it?"

 _"No way! I mean, not really. Well, it still bothers me. What if I'm supposed to be doing something bigger? Something more important? Something more…Arc-like? And I know plenty of Arcs over the years haven't become huntsmen—but how many first sons haven't? How many only sons haven't? Honestly, I think that's going to bother me for the rest of my life…"_

Jaune massaged his temples, as if he was giving himself a headache.

 _"But I can happily say I now know beyond the shadow of a doubt that killing Grimm is not for me. Partly, because I would be terrible at it. But also, because…"_

Ellie watched her brother's eyes lose focus; he was no longer staring at his scroll screen as she was.

 _"…It was the weirdest thing. During initiation, there was this giant Ursa, just sitting on top of me. Its eyes were blood red and it was just staring at me. Honestly, I kind of felt like we were connecting. Then… maybe it tried to bite my head off or maybe it tried to lick me. One of those two. But before I could find out which Weiss and Pyrrha killed it. It was so…weird. Anyway, I don't think I could have killed that Ursa even if I was strong enough to."_

Aw.

Jaune was making friends.

With the Grimm.

Shortly before they tried to tear him to pieces.

"Jaune, why are you still at Beacon?"

 _"Huh?"_

"If you know, for certain, that you're not one of the Grimm-slaying death-defying types of Arcs—which I could have told you, by the way—oh wait, I did…"

Jaune laughed.

"…then why are you still at Beacon? Why aren't you at the VAA right now, telling them you got caught up in a robbery, that you still want to attend?"

Jaune sighed. _"Honestly?"_

"As opposed to lying to me?"

 _"There are two reasons I guess."_

Ellie watched the camera gradually pan to a bundle in blankets, laying on a bed. "Super comfy bedding?" she hazarded a guess.

Jaune chuckled. " _No, I had to scavenge the blankets because she was shivering. They have the air conditioning up way too high in here._ "

He pulled back the top of the blankets to reveal a nest of dark red hair. The hair belonged to a pale snoring girl. A river of drool escaped her mouth running down her rosy cheek and pooling in a stain on her pillow.

Ellie laughed. "She looks kind of like Cece."

 _"You should see her when she pulls out the puppy-dog eyes. Almost an exact match."_

"So, this is…?"

 _"Ruby. She saved my life, and broke both her legs doing it. Ozpin made me her partner."_

"Did Ozpin say he would kick her out or something if you left?"

 _"No, no. Nothing like that. It's just…leaving her now, after she… and when I'm the first friend she made…I just…I mean, I have to be here when she wakes up."_

Ellie was tempted to point out to Jaune that he didn't _have_ to be there when she woke up.

But, honestly, it was Jaune. He would view leaving as an act of betraying a friend.

Jaune Arc did not betray his friends.

"What's the second reason?"

 _"Ozpin says that I need at least_ ** _some_** _training now that my aura is unlocked. Because Grimm are attracted to aura. Apparently, I'll be a danger to myself and the people around me if I can't take care of a few Grimm."_

Ellie squinted at the phone screen. "Aura attracts Grimm…huh."

 _"Yeah,"_ said Jaune. _"That's…true, right?"_

"Well…I'm not a huntress. But I think dad has mentioned that before. But he never made it sound like you become a Grimm magnet. Wouldn't it be dangerous to have huntsmen walking around the kingdoms if that's how it worked?"

Jaune nodded.

"Hm," Ellie racked her brain, trying to remember the exact context of the conversation she had with her father. "I think dad once told me that aura makes protecting a civilian caravan easier because Grimm will usually go for the ones with aura first. It didn't sound like a hard rule and it certainly didn't sound like the Grimm were coming from miles away. More like, when faced with a choice between a huntsman and a civilian—the Grimm will usually pick the huntsman."

 _"Huh, that doesn't sound so bad."_

"Well, don't just take my word for it!" said Ellie, huffing. "You're at a huntsman academy—ask someone who actually knows what they're talking about."

 _"Will do."_

Ellie studied her brother's grinning face. She could not stop the fast-spreading worry taking root in her chest. Her brother was many things. But a fighter he was not. She was happy to hear that, at the very least, he had his aura unlocked. She would have preferred if he was a normal civilian at the VAA without aura, but if he was going to be sticking around Beacon for any length of time he might as well have the best defense against angry students, stray bullets, and the occasional Grimm.

"So, what is it you want me to do?"

 _"Be nosy, sniff around. That sort of thing."_

"What is it I should be sticking my nose into?"

 _"Grandma's always liked you, right? More than she liked me, at least…"_

"You shouldn't take that personally. Forty-five years of being married to Grandpa has made her kind of hate men. I think she just sees Grandpa in all males and it just makes her wary."

 _"But they're still married."_

"That," replied Ellie. "Is a whole 'nother conversation."

" _Huh,"_ said Jaune thoughtfully. _"Well, anyway I was hoping you could see if Grandma knows anything about Grandpa sending an application in for me before we sent our own in. I didn't want to call the headmaster out on it without proof but…I've always thought Grandpa was way to scared of mom to do something like this."_

"Jaune," Ellie chastised. "Grandpa isn't scared of mom—he just, in his own words, _picks his battles carefully since she doesn't play fair and refuses anything less than total domination of her opponent._ "

 _"Ha! That's so true!"_

Ellie ran her fingers through her blond tresses as she considered Jaune's request. "Okay, this shouldn't be too difficult. Grandma and I can talk for hours at a time and it's been a few weeks since our last call."

 _"That's so unfair,"_ Jaune moaned. _"I want to be close to Grandma too!"_

"They have surgeries for that sort of thing."

 _"I want to be close to Grandma without going under the knife!"_

"I don't know _Joan_ ; you know what's better than seven sisters?"

 _"Eight?"_ Jaune guessed.

"Eight," agreed Ellie.

 _"You want an eighth sister; you'd better talk to mom and dad about that."_

Ellie laughed.

 _"So, you'll help me out right Ell-Bell?"_

Ellie swallowed. It was hard to ignore the wave of pleasure that ran down her spine when Jaune used her favorite nickname. "You just want me to see if Grandma knows anything?"

 _"Yep, but you have to be sneaky. I don't want the rest of the family freaking out because I'm at Beacon for the moment."_

"You want me to keep all this a secret from the family!?" exclaimed Ellie, brain racing.

 _"Yes. But not because Ozpin said so. Because I'm an adult. I can handle this on my own. I **will** handle this on my own." _

Ellie studied her brother's resolute eyes and took in his determined tone. It was easiest not to argue. "Alright Jaune, I'll keep your secrets, but you better handle everything the way I would!"

 _"Thanks Ell! So, what have you been up to since I've been gone?"_

Ellie wasn't sure how to tell him that she had been lounging around in his hoodie, barely accomplishing half the tasks she set for herself on any given day.

"Well, I—"

She was prevented from having to lie when the sound of a door slamming open emerged from Jaune's end. _"Oh, hold on, maybe you'll get to meet Weiss and Pyrrha."_

There was a feminine cry of _"Ruby!"_

Jaune looked back down at his scroll-screen.

 _"Sorry, not Pyrrha or Weiss. I've got to go. Talk to you later?"_

"Of course," said Ellie.

 _"Love you."_

"I love you too."

The call ended. She stared at the blank screen for a few long seconds, organizing everything her brother had told her in her head. Most of it she was able to accept and shelve. The part that her brain kept refusing to accept, kept refusing to consider, was the part where Beacon Academy had launched her brother into a forest—where he only survived by the quick thinking of a fifteen-year-old girl.

If Ruby had been any slower...

Any less quick to react…

Jaune would be dead.

Dead.

Dead.

 _Dead._

He wasn't dead. And that was an amazing comforting feeling. But he could have been. And that was more than enough for her to want heads on platters.

Of course, alone, there wasn't much she could do.

Fortunately, she knew another woman who would want just as much blood as her.

"Sorry Jaune," she muttered, thinking of the promise she had made with no intention to keep. She rushed for the stairs. "Mom!"

I*I*I

"How did it happen?" asked Yang.

Jaune watched Yang stroke her sister's hair. On the outside he was calm. Calm as could be.

On the inside he was panicking. Did he tell Yang everything? Did he tell her that he was launched into the Emerald Forest without aura or training and that Ruby had stopped him from splattering across a tree?

Did he tell her the truth—that Ruby was injured protecting him—but keep his explanation vague and unspecific?

Did he just lie?

Tell her that he had no idea how Ruby broke her legs?

Jaune considered his options and why he would choose each. Option number three, lying and telling her he had no idea how it happened, that was the easiest option. Yang wasn't mad at him—for now, at least. She wasn't mad at Ozpin. She just, wasn't mad. He could keep it that way by keeping quiet.

But, unfortunately, acting as if he was ignorant of Ruby's sacrifice, when that sacrifice was made on his behalf… and had such a terrible impact on the girl…

Well…

It felt like trivializing what she had done for him.

And he would _never_ trivialize what Ruby had done for him.

So that left being vague or spilling everything. Spilling everything was a scary thought. Mostly because Yang did not strike him as the most rational of people. She struck him as the sort to punch problems first, punch them again later, and ask questions about why those punches weren't effective enough the first time so that the next problem she encountered she could better annihilate.

She would be furious with him. He was almost certain of it. She'd likely be enraged at Glynda and Ozpin too, but they were neither within punching range nor within easy-to-punch status.

The worst part was her rage wouldn't be _entirely_ unwarranted. He should have done something. Something to stop himself from getting thrusted into initiation. He wasn't sure what he should have done but—call home.

That's what he should have done.

If he had just told his family what was happening…

One call to his mother and she would have had Ozpin on the phone in minutes.

But he was too prideful to get in touch with them. Too determined to prove he was fine on his own, without them.

And now, Ruby was badly injured. He and she had _both_ nearly died. And his aura was unlocked—along with whatever that meant for his civilian status.

All because he was too prideful for a stupid phone call.

 _That_ was what he would be admitting to Yang if he shared the full story. All of that.

"She…" Jaune started and stopped. "She got those injuries right after we…ran into each other. She just threw herself into…protecting me. Didn't even think twice about it. She…"

He drifted off.

What was he supposed to say?

"I heard you carried her all the way back to Beacon on your back."

"She had to come off twice because of Grimm fights—but otherwise yeah."

Yang's gaze didn't leave Ruby's sleeping face. "Just like Ruby to get herself hurt protecting someone who doesn't need it."

Protecting someone who doesn't need it…?

Ah, right, Yang still thought he was an elite huntsman.

"No, honestly, I would have died if she hadn't intervened. She saved my life."

Yang looked away from Ruby for the first time since she had arrived. Her lilac eyes met his. "What actually happened?"

"Well," Jaune began, swallowing nervously. "You see…I'm not…or rather, I didn't have—"

Jaune was cut off—or, perhaps, saved—by the sound of two sets of footsteps approaching and the door opening. Jaune's two remaining teammates entered the room.

Yang looked genuinely surprised to see them.

"Jaune, how is Ruby?" asked Weiss.

"Out like a light still," replied Jaune.

"Hey," said Yang. "I heard you two helped Jaune get Ruby back here safely. Thanks. I…don't know what I…just thanks."

"Think nothing of it Yang," replied Pyrrha. "Ruby would have done the same for any one of us."

"On our way over we ran into Doctor Morado. He told us visiting hours will be over soon," said Weiss.

"Ah."

"But I just got here! And it's not that late!" exclaimed Yang.

Weiss shrugged. "You are welcome to try and stay. Maybe you can hide from the med staff somehow. Doctor Morado was on his way out, although it didn't look like he was done for the day. Probably running an errand. Jaune…" she nodded toward the door. "Pyrrha and I would like to speak with you." She glanced at the pile of blankets that was Ruby. "Ideally, Ruby would be present for this conversation as well but, it cannot wait."

"I can pass on whatever you want to Ruby," said Yang.

"Thank you for the offer," replied Pyrrha. "But this is somewhat of a private team matter."

"Team?" questioned Yang.

"Did Jaune not tell you? The… _headmaster_ placed Jaune, Ruby, Pyrrha and I on the same team."

Jaune was a little surprised by the venom with which Weiss spoke Ozpin's title. Sure, he found the headmaster pretty annoying, especially after he tried to get Jaune questioning his destiny again—not that Jaune had ever really stopped—but Weiss's dislike sounded a fair bit more serious than his own.

"She passed!?" Yang exclaimed, her eyes big. "You all did!"

"Of course," said Weiss. She flipped her hair. "Was there ever any doubt?"

"Well," replied Yang. "When they were announcing teams, you guys never came up… Plus you weren't there for the fight with the Giant Nevermore…"

"You fought a Giant Nevermore?" asked Pyrrha with genuine interest lacing her voice.

"Yeah," said Yang. "But we didn't kill it. We were whooping its ass until it…just sort of…left."

"You scared it off?" asked Jaune.

"I guess," said Yang. "Although I don't think Grimm get scared. And it didn't really seem scared. More like…it got distracted? Either way, it really _flew_ the coop."

"Jaune?" Weiss motioned towards the door.

"Yeah, okay." He turned to back to Ruby's sister. "Hey, Yang, we'll talk later—if you haven't already gotten the full story from Ruby by then."

Yang nodded.

Jaune followed Weiss and Pyrrha out the door. The two lead him on a bit of a hike across Beacon grounds.

Jaune would have assumed they were taking a scenic route—if Weiss weren't so obviously lost at times and so hilarious resistant to the admission.

However, eventually, Jaune found himself in a familiar part of the Beacon facility.

The dorms.

The door Weiss opened with her scroll was only a few down from the room in which Jaune had stayed.

At this point, the silence concerning why he was being dragged across the campus was beginning to grow unsettling.

Jaune had no idea what the girls wished to discuss with him but, it couldn't be good—could it? Not after they brought him all the way here without saying a word as to their reason?

When they sat him on one of the four beds and sat together on the bed opposite him and then proceeded to watch him quietly, his nerves hit their peak.

He began looking around the room, searching for something to distract him. Idly, he noticed there was a _ton_ of luggage scattered about the room. Like an actual _ton_. Did Weiss bring a servant with her? Because he'd been with her most of the day, and at no point had she transported four-hundred pounds of luggage. He hadn't seen a servant. But the Schnee's did give a new meaning to the word _rich_. Perhaps her servants were always about? Lurking in the shadows? Waiting for her commands?

He began to surreptitiously search out the room's darkest corners.

"Jaune," said Weiss. "What are you looking at?"

 _Ninja butlers_.

It almost slipped out.

But it didn't, because he was cooler these days.

"Nothing."

"Really?" asked Weiss, eyes narrowing.

Suddenly, Jaune felt like it would be for the best if he was the one asking the questions. "Is this about me being on your team? Because, I had no idea Ozpin was going to do that…"

Weiss relaxed while Pyrrha replied. "It both is and isn't about that Jaune."

"Oh."

That didn't clear things up, now, did it?

"Jaune," began Weiss. "Pyrrha and I were both rather…"

She seemed to be searching for the right word.

"Appalled?" suggested Pyrrha.

"Appalled, yes. Pyrrha and I were both rather appalled by the headmaster's conduct earlier. We stayed behind to address some of our concerns with him."

"Concerns?" repeated Jaune.

"Jaune," said Pyrrha. "You aren't a huntsman—and that's fine. And if you want to become one now, that's fine too. We were concerned because the headmaster didn't seem as open to you pursuing _either_ option."

"Ah."

"I suppose discussing what bothered us about the headmaster isn't as important as asking you what you want." Weiss threaded her slim fingers together and rested them in her lap. "You are a musician, and your original intention in coming to Vale was to attend the VAA, correct?"

Jaune nodded.

"And is it safe to assume that you are not being forced to become musician, to increase the social standing or status of your family? Or because of a similarly nefarious headmaster? That you, in fact, enjoy music?"

Jaune had to take a few seconds to understand the question before he could answer it. "No. No. And…yeah. I love music."

"Then the question here is simple, when do you plan to leave?"

Jaune scratched the back of his head. "I-I don't know."

"Unacceptable," stated Weiss. " _That_ is the kind of uncertain, unthoughtful, procrastination-laced answer that men like Ozpin will use to control and manipulate you for your _entire_ life. Is that what you want Jaune? To be used?"

Jaune studied his hands. "Of course not."

"Then don't let it happen," said Pyrrha.

Jaune met the beautiful redhead's gaze. Her emerald eyes were mesmerizing.

"I don't know you very well Jaune," continued Pyrrha. "But we did fight for our lives together—"

"I'd say you two did most of the fighting," cut in Jaune with a smile.

"Fighting is more than stabbing and bashing and blocking Jaune. When we accepted protecting Ruby as our mission, we agreed to fight for her survival. To put our lives on the line for hers. I watched you do that just as readily as Weiss and I when you tossed her and took a hit from a charging Ursa. Watching you do that was, well… it was scary at the time, but amazing in hindsight."

Jaune flushed.

He had received platitudes and "you're doing better" from his father any number of times. But they'd just been the empty words of a parent who _had_ to encourage their kid. Who _had_ to make their child feel as if they had done a good job—if only because he had given his best effort.

Pyrrha though.

Pyrrha had no reason to flatter him. And her words dripped with sincerity.

The redhead continued, oblivious to the effect she was having on Jaune. "I'll be honest with you Jaune. I would love to have you on our team. That passion, that willingness to protect—it was amazing. I think you have something that every huntsman needs, and no amount of training can give. Something that would have most students here trying to catch up to _you_ in a year or two…"

Jaune's face was burning. Initially, he had hoped his full-face blush wouldn't be noticed. Now, he just hoped he hadn't turned the same shade as Pyrrha's hair.

"But none of that matters if it isn't what you want to do. If it isn't who you are."

Jaune had to force himself to keep meeting her eyes.

To not study his feet or the carpet or the light bulb overhead. Anything less bright and brilliant than the girl in front of him.

Jaune sighed. After a speech like that he needed to give her an answer. He needed to give her the truth. But first, he would follow Ellie's advice. "What Ozpin said, about aura attracting Grimm? Is that true?"

"It's not a complete fabrication," replied Weiss. "But he certainly exaggerated things. In the case of a Grimm incursion, you'll certainly be a higher priority target for the Grimm then the average civilian. But you won't summon them to the city, if that's what you're imagining. If unlocked aura could summon distant Grimm into heavily populated areas…well, I can't even imagine what the world would look like."

"In other words, self-defense is a good idea," said Pyrrha. " _But_ you don't have to obsess over it. There hasn't been a Grimm incursion in Vale for…a very long time. Making sure you stay in shape and know how to use a weapon if the occasion calls for it is more than enough. And you don't need to be at Beacon to do that. You just need a gym and a weapon and someone who's willing to show you how to use it, which, between your family and us, you have an abundance of willing trainers."

"Huh…" It wasn't the most elaborate response to the immensely helpful information he had just been given—but at least it showed that he was thinking.

"All this, of course, brings us back to Pyrrha's question."

"Which was?"

"Who are you Jaune Arc?" asked Pyrrha. "Are you a huntsman, hiding behind music because you're scared? Or are you a musician, who's been brainwashed into believing he might _have_ to be a huntsman?"

Jaune froze. He'd never thought about it quite that way.

"Well…I'm not sure I have it in me to kill Grimm, even if I was stronger…" began Jaune. "And I _know_ that my music means something—even if I haven't had the opportunity to make much of it lately. I know I want to change the world with Ole' Blue…"

When he received questioning looks, he explained.

"My guitar."

"Ah," said Pyrrha.

Jaune thought about all the hours he had put into his craft. All the late nights practicing on his keyboard. All the years spent training his voice. The callouses on his fingertips. The copious amounts of sheet music he had written, much of which was tucked away in boxes in his closet back home.

Then he thought about the short miserable sparring sessions he'd had with his father.

Jaune groaned. "I'm definitely a musician."

"Then why are you still here?" asked Weiss, eerily reminiscent of his younger sister.

"Well, let me just say I'm not sure being a musician completely invalidates being a huntsman. And as for why I'm here… I didn't pay that much mind to what Ozpin said. I just didn't think I could leave until Ruby wakes up. I need to make sure she's really okay…and…ah. It's just, we're partners, right? And she already sacrificed her legs for me…how can I abandon her after that?"

"Jaune," said Pyrrha. "I don't think Ruby saved your life so she could hold it over your head and make you her unwilling partner for the next four years."

"Of course that's not _why_ she did it...I'm just saying. I owe her, a lot. And leaving feels like I'm spitting in the face of that."

"Look, you can still be Ruby's friend. You can still spend time with her. But if you have different aspirations, different life goals there will be a split in your road, a divergence in your paths. Ruby wants to be a huntress. You want to be a musician, mostly. Perhaps part of you wants to a huntsman as well—I am still a bit unclear on that particular point…"

"Join the club," muttered Jaune quietly.

"Regardless," continued Weiss. "You can only pursue one fulltime—and becoming a huntsman is not a job one can train for on the weekends. True, a huntsman could have music as a hobby. But if you wish to _change the world with Ole' Blue_ , then you need to chase music, every minute of every day. You will not be able to do that here. It's impossible."

Jaune nodded. His head moved slowly at first, but quickly picked up speed. She was right. Sure, he'd always had a passion for being a hero. For being a man capable of protecting what he loved. But he'd never had a passion for killing Grimm. Or a passion for combat.

And he likely never would.

Where would his passion for _being a hero_ —whatever that meant—lead him if he couldn't fight or kill or do any of the necessary heroic acts?

But his passion for music.

That wasn't an empty hopeless dream. All the things it took to be a musician? All of the skills? He had them. He had them in spades.

He still needed to speak to Ruby of course…but, after that, he'd tell Ozpin to shove it. He could get his friends to teach him how to fend off a Grimm or two. In the unlikely event there was a mass Grimm incursion in Vale he'd be able to fend for himself. Or, more likely, considering his luck, he'd have died in a far more pathetic way the day before, like tetanus from a mishandled paper clip.

Either way…

Jaune's scroll vibrated in his pocket.

He withdrew the device. It was a message, from an unknown number.

 _Hey, are you awake?_

Jaune stared at the screen, long and hard.

This was…

This was…

He had heard about this.

This was a booty call. It had to be! It wasn't that late—but look at the coy phrasing!

Of course, there was also the question of _who_ would be booty-calling his virgin ass.

But that was a question he could answer at a later time!

First, he had to craft the perfect nonchalant, non-freaking out answer. The kind of thing a real cool guy would say. Something that just screamed charm and charisma.

Something like.

 _I'm always up._

Wait, did that sound hella weird?

He pressed send, as he reconsidered and as a new message arrived.

 _This is Ozpin by the way._

Jaune twitched.

A third message arrived from the mysterious messenger claiming to be headmaster of the academy.

 _That is an interesting fact about yourself Mr. Arc, I suppose I shall endeavor to keep that in mind._

Weiss and Pyrrha must have noticed something off about his expression.

"What is it Jaune?"

"It's…it's Ozpin."

"…what?" said Weiss. Her voice was barb wire. Her eyes were the electric current running through it.

Jaune was instantly nervous. "Well, it's a number I don't recognize. He says he's Ozpin. He talks kind of like Ozpin."

"What did he say?" asked Pyrrha.

Her voice wasn't as tense as Weiss's but Jaune still wouldn't even consider not answering her question.

"He asked if I was awake."

"What did you tell him?"

Jaune did his best not to look like a moron _and_ a liar as he answered. "Yes?"

His scroll vibrated again.

 _I request that you come to my office._

His scroll vibrated again. But Jaune was a little distracted by the two gorgeous girls suddenly encroaching his space. Weiss was on his left and Pyrrha was on his right, both leaning over him to get a better view of his scroll's screen.

Thank god himself that Ozpin's next few messages came in rapidly, each of them pushing his first few messages further and further up until they were offscreen.

 _If you are amenable, of course._

 _It should only take a few minutes._

 _Your teammates are welcome to attend as well. Or rather, I doubt there is very much I could do to stop them._

Jaune glanced at Pyrrha and then Weiss, both of whom were looking at each other with serious expressions.

He tried to focus on his scroll and think about the strange messages—which definitely were not a booty call—and figure out their meaning. But, in the end, all he could think about were the thighs pressed against his on either side and the slender shoulder and the hair brushing against his arms.

Then Weiss stood up and began to pace, which made things easier, but Pyrrha was still there so…

"What do you suppose he wants?" said Weiss.

"I can't say," replied Pyrrha.

"I thought I was fairly clear, setting the boundaries at the end there."

"You were," said Pyrrha comfortingly. "But in the end, he's still Beacon's headmaster. He has the authority to flout those boundaries if he should so choose."

"True," acknowledge Weiss. She stopped pacing and fixed Pyrrha and Jaune with an intense stare.

It sent…something down Jaune's spine. Although he wasn't sure what.

"So, what do we do?"

There was a second of silence. Then Pyrrha answered. "Well, that's up to Jaune isn't it? Do you want to go or not?"

Jaune considered that. It would probably feel good to blatantly ignore Ozpin's offer. The man _had_ laughed when he told him he didn't have aura after all. And then _allowed_ Glynda Goodwitch to spike him into the goddamn forest.

But honestly, what would being petty accomplish now?

He was above that sort of thing.

Also, he could tell Ozpin to shove it, and that he'd be leaving when Ruby woke up and that he'd get his self-defense lessons somewhere else. Somewhere he _felt safer_. Oh. That would get him.

But again.

Not a petty bone in his body.

He was however, a little weirded out by how intense the girls were being about this.

Well, Pyrrha had said it was up to him so…

"I'll go, but you two don't need to bother."

"No," said Pyrrha. "We're coming too."

"I thought you said it was up to me?"

"Whether you go is up to you," corrected Pyrrha. "Us coming with you is non-negotiable."

"Oh," said Jaune, looking to Weiss, hoping she wouldn't be quite as onboard with crashing his meeting as Pyrrha.

He found no support from her, only a nod of agreement to accompany Pyrrha's assertion.

"Alright, I'll just tell him we're on our way then."

I*I*I

The walk to Ozpin's office was longer than the walk from the medical wing. Not because it was a greater distance—Jaune was pretty sure it wasn't.

No, that was because the silence was deeper this time. More authentic. Pyrrha and Weiss weren't just considering something. Nor were they lost in thought.

They were strategizing.

And, for the life of him, Jaune had no idea why.

Eventually, they arrived at Ozpin's office.

The elevator doors slid open and the trio entered. Ozpin looked relaxed, almost lethargic. On his desk sat a massive mug. A mug in which Jaune could likely fit both his fists. And beside that mug was an even more massive thermos, enough to fill up the giant mug three or four times over.

"Ah, Mister Arc, Miss Schnee, Miss Nikos. A pleasure to see you all again."

"If only we could say the same," said Weiss.

Jaune's eyes bulged.

"Yes, yes. I know you told me to stay away from your team. Told me quite a bit before that as well. I only called you here because I acknowledge that you were more likely than not right about much of it. I seemed to have developed a… somewhat skewed perspective."

Jaune glanced at Weiss and Pyrrha, wondering what they had said to Ozpin for him to now concede to their point.

Neither looked particularly certain what to do with Ozpin's almost-sort-of-but-not-really-but-still-kind-of apology.

Whatever their internal response was, it likely was not forgiveness. Jaune was detecting zero forgiveness in their expressions.

"So," continued Ozpin. "When Doctor Morado arrived, asking approval to fly Ruby to the Valesian Kingdom Hospital for some better x-rays, I immediately thought of you Jaune. If you would like to leave, I will tell the pilot to expect another passenger. You'd be back in Vale by tomorrow morning—ready to start at the VAA. The headmaster of which—I might add—I sent a message a few minutes ago, explaining that you have been in protective custody—after witnessing a violent crime perpetrated by one Roman Torchwick. In other words, Mr. Arc, should you decide it. You are free to choose to leave Mister Arc."

Jaune stared at Ozpin incredulously.

The man had performed a complete about-face since their last conversation.

It heavily took the wind out of the sails of his little _shove-it-Ozpin_ speech.

Fortunately, Weiss wasn't quite as lost for words.

"You've changed your mind about doing everything in your power to keep Jaune here? Why?"

"You likely would not believe me if I claimed to have done so because I regret my previous actions and wish to make amends…"

"I would not."

"Then let us simply say my actions are for personal reasons and leave it at that." Ozpin turned back toward him. "Jaune, would you like to leave in the morning?"

Jaune's breathing slowed. His fingers twitched.

He could leave. In the morning. He could be back in Vale tomorrow. What was it he said was the only thing holding him back?

Ruby?

Well she was going to Vale too. In fact, they'd be going together. He'd be able to talk with her, make sure she understood that he wasn't just abandoning her…

Then he could go to the VAA. Then he could start doing what he was, _clearly_ , meant to do.

It was a no brainer.

"I'd be on the same bullhead as Ruby?"

Ozpin nodded.

"Yeah." Jaune swallowed. He closed his eyes. "I think it's time I got back on track."

After a few seconds of silence, he blinked back to awareness. He glanced at the girls to either side of him. Pyrrha was looking at him with a sad smile. Weiss met his glance with a slight nod.

"Great," said Ozpin. Hefting his massive mug. He lifted it to his lips and took a sip. And then another. And then another.

Jaune watched, wide-eyed as, over the course of thirty-seconds, Ozpin downed at least a quart of coffee.

When the headmaster finished, he gently sat down his oversized mug and sighed.

"Guess I'll just…explain your absence to Glynda then. Somehow."

"No need to worry about that headmaster," said Weiss. "Pyrrha and I are more than happy to assist you with that explanation."

Jaune shook his head. Girls. One moment they act like they hate you—and the next they're offering to help you out of a tough spot.

"Will that be all headmaster?" asked Pyrrha.

Ozpin nodded. "Yes, I believe that will be all. Mister Arc, you and Miss Rose's flight leaves at six AM. Avoid being late. Miss Rose's treatments are on a time-table."

"Understood. Thanks!"

Jaune exited Ozpin's office with some energy to his pace. He was going back to Vale! He was going to the VAA! And like hell the universe was going to stop him with its stupid signs or its confusing distractions.

He was going to get a good night's rest. And he'd be on his way to Vale and, eventually, the VAA, in the morning.

I*I*I

Jaune got less sleep than he wanted and more than he anticipated.

On the one hand, he had been so very, very, very tired last night.

The initiation…

Waiting for news on Ruby's condition…

Both discussions with Ozpin…

It was a long day.

He wanted nothing more than to pick out a bed for his first and last sleepover with team WRJP and give himself over to unconsciousness.

But then, Pyrrha and Weiss change into their sleepwear. And suddenly he was wide-awake. The most embarrassing part was that they were only walking around like that for about an hour. Pyrrha in her red and green sweatpants and noodle strap that rode up just a bit. And Weiss in a sleeping gown that sort of looked like negligee.

It wasn't.

But Jaune's brain wasn't exactly the part in control of his thoughts at that point.

Anyway, the most embarrassing part was that, not long after changing, both girls settled into their beds, covered themselves with their blankets, and drifted off. Meanwhile, Jaune was tortured by fleeting fantasies for another three hours.

Jaune had always hoped that having seven sisters would make him pretty much immune to the opposite sex. Not in the same way that a gay man would be. But just, he'd always be in control. They would be the ones tripping up because he was so cool, calm, confident, and collected.

As it was, scantily clad sisters were nothing like scantily clad non-sisters. The two weren't even in the same ballpark. Or league. Or sport.

Hell, did sisters even count as the opposite sex?

Still, despite his wild imagination, his exhaustion eventually caught up and he managed to get a few hours of rest. He woke up to his scroll's alarm at five.

He took a quick shower—something he really should have done the day before. And then he changed into a new hoodie and jeans. When he exited the bathroom, he was somewhat surprised to see Pyrrha and Weiss up and impatiently waiting for him to exit—even if he had only been in there for about ten minutes.

If there was one aspect of living with women that Jaune had grown accustomed to being around eight of them, it was getting the hell out of the way when they were in a rush to complete their morning rituals.

Pyrrha had showered the night before, which saved them some time, but between the two girls, the bathroom was occupied up until the moment they had to leave. So much so that Jaune found himself brushing his teeth without spitting and without toothpaste.

It was around five-forty-five when they left the dorm room. Jaune lead the way since he had a _very_ good idea of where the bullhead hangar was.

As they approached, Jaune spoke. "You all really didn't have to wake up so early in the morning for this, you know. You definitely didn't have to walk with me all the way here…"

Pyrrha yawned, reinforcing his point. But her words refuted it. "Nonsense Jaune, we're a team. Sure, you're leaving but I'll always think of you as one of my teammates—especially once you're a famous enough musician that when I hang out with you the paparazzi won't even notice me."

Jaune laughed.

"I assure you Pyrrha," said Weiss. "The paparazzi will notice both of you, together, as a unit, as an item." She smirked at the other girl. "It will only inflate their interest."

Pyrrha turned a bit red at that.

Jaune figured it was because she didn't like being told she was wrong. "Why would they be so interested?" asked Jaune. "I mean, we're not going to fight. I'd get my ass kicked. And—wait, Pyrrha, do you play music? Maybe they'd think we were collaborating."

"P-perhaps Jaune. Perhaps."

It didn't take long for them to find the bullhead Jaune would be riding home. It was a vehicle specially designed for the infirm. It was almost entirely white, had a red cross painted on either side, and the interior looked more like a doctor's office than the passenger area of the bullhead Jaune had arrived in.

Jaune watched as a nurse wheeled a wide-awake Ruby into the bullhead.

She waved to them and shouted something about taking care of her baby. Pyrrha called out that they would be visiting her later in the day.

Jaune turned to Weiss and Pyrrha with a small smile. It felt strange, saying goodbye. On the one hand, he'd known the two of them for a day.

So, a goodbye should have been simple.

Easy.

But at some point, probably when they were protecting his civilian butt in a forest full of Grimm, Jaune had both consciously and subconsciously recognized the individuals around him as some of the greatest potential friends a guy could have.

And he was giving them up for music.

Not entirely, he'd still see them. He'd be sure to keep in touch—with Ruby especially. But, still, it wasn't quite the same as living side-by-side with them for days, weeks, months, years.

But this was the right choice. He wasn't one-hundred-percent sure what he was called to do.

But he knew he was called to do it with his guitar.

So, he had to go.

"I've heard the VAA regularly performs concerts Jaune, be sure to invite us," said Pyrrha.

Jaune briefly panicked.

Pyrrha caught on immediately. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know how many tickets they'll give me and I'm from a family of ten so…"

The edge of Weiss's mouth quirked upward. "Just let us know when you're performing in advance and I will procure our tickets."

"Will do!" said Jaune, happily. "Oh, and Weiss. Don't think I've forgotten that you're a fellow musician! We should do something together sometime."

"Oh, um—I don't…for me, music—"

It was the most taken off guard and uncertain Jaune had ever seen the Schnee heiress. He interrupted her gently. "Hey, I forgot that when I heard your music it always struck me as lonely. Your voice is amazing but if pain is the only place the music comes from right now then forget I asked. Just let me know if you ever feel like making some happier tunes, okay? We don't have to record or compose or write. Just friends making music for themselves for the joy of it."

Weiss's smile was small, but it had a genuine joy to it that beat her confident smirk any day.

"I will keep that in mind Jaune."

"Great!"

He turned his attention toward the redhead. "Take care of yourself Pyr—do you mind if I call you that?"

"Not at all," replied Pyrrha. And, if her tone was any indication, she really didn't. "And you take care of yourself as well Jaune—although, saying that makes me feel as if I won't be seeing you soon enough to make sure you're taking care of yourself—which I hope is not true. I hope to see you again soon Jaune."

Jaune couldn't fend off the massive grin working its way across his face. "Of course, how am I not going to hang out with my favorite people in Vale?"

And before Jaune could really consider what he was doing, he wrapped both girls in a hug. It was short—extremely short. Because Jaune really didn't want to overstay his welcome. And he had a feeling he had done just that by simply initiating contact with Weiss. But neither stabbed him before he released, so that was a good sign.

He waved once more as he hurried on to the bullhead.

I*I*I

The interior of the bullhead was interesting. If you were into that kind of thing. Very…doctor-y.

Ruby stared down at her immobilized legs. Even with all the aura enhancers they had her on they said it could be about a month to a month-and-a-half before she was walking. And then, to add insult to injury, there would be physical therapy after that.

Physical therapy!?

That sounded more boring than watching paint dry. Or listening to Yang gab about The Achieve Men.

Of course, life wasn't all bad.

Jaune was here!

Shortly before takeoff he had sat down in a chair bolted next to her stationary bed. There was a window to the left of him, that ended up cloaking a bit of his face in silhouette. But even with that, Ruby could tell he looked earnest.

His words came pouring out in a grand deluge. Apologizing for her injury, telling her that he would stay at Beacon if she needed him to, telling her what a good friend and how awesome and amazing she was, telling her that he would only go to the VAA if she wanted him too.

It was…

Well, it was a lot.

After a few minutes and after a surprisingly gentle and quiet take off Jaune shut up. Partially because Ruby told him to. And partially because the nurse had returned from discussing something with the pilot.

"Jaune, I plan to be a huntress for a long, long time. And in that time, I plan to save a lot of people. I'm not going to be forcing those people to become huntsman and huntresses because they _owe me one_. And you're not even a stranger. You're a friend. So obviously I helped you. What else was I going to do?"

To Ruby, everything she was saying was just common sense.

To Jaune, it must have been significantly more impressive than that.

"Ruby…you are just…amazing."

Ruby blushed. She couldn't help it.

When his compliments had been hidden in his rambling and he'd been all over the place it was easier to ignore.

Now, he was looking her right in the eye and there was no bluster to distract her.

"Normal knees," muttered Ruby as she shifted her gaze toward the window. Toward a bullhead flying in the opposite direction, toward Beacon.

"Huh?" asked Jaune.

"Ah," said the nurse, looking up from her clipboard.

A clip above her right breast read, Iris.

"Young love."

"W-what!?" sputtered Jaune.

Ruby turned pinker.

"I said," reiterated Nurse Iris. "Young love."

"We aren't in love!" Ruby squeaked.

"You sure about that?" A predatory grin spread across the bottom half of Iris's face. "Because you look like you're partners in _more than one way_."

The singsong way she delivered that last part had Ruby blushing even fiercer.

"We aren't!" Ruby hastily defended. "We aren't even partners in the regular way now, Jaune is going to become a musician—not a huntsman!"

"Ah," replied the nurse, her voice full of understanding. She turned her attention toward Jaune. "Figured out she's more the type to swoon over a sexy song than a dismembered Beowolf head?"

Ruby buried her face in her hands.

"Huh…?" said Jaune cleverly.

"Is it safe to assume that's a guitar you've got there, and not a giant axe or bazooka or turret or something?" asked Iris.

Jaune nodded.

"Well, are you going to prove to me and her…" she motioned to Ruby. "That you've got what it takes to woo her?" She motioned to Ruby again.

"He's not trying to woo me!" shouted Ruby.

Iris shrugged. "If you say so kid. He could still play us something. This bullhead is designed for stability, not speed. The ride is going to take twice as long as it usually does."

Ruby studied Jaune for a moment. He didn't seem like he _didn't_ want to play. "Well, if he wants to, I'd like it…"

Jaune quickly produced his guitar.

"Already got your musical lover whipped I see."

Ruby tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore the aggravating nurse.

Her attention shifted when Jaune strummed a few times. "What should I sing, what should I sing…?" muttered Jaune. "Oh!" Louder, he said, "I wrote this shortly before coming to Beacon. It still needs some work if I'm being honest but tell me what you think!" He played a few notes and added a steady beat with a tap of his foot.

His voice was…

Well it was…

 _"Time, Time_

 _I'm running down the line_

 _Cannot hide no longer cause_

 _I'm running out of time_

 _Time, Time_

 _I'm running down the line_

 _Cannot hide no longer cause_

 _I'm running out of time_

 _I have heard them say_

 _Where there's a will_

 _Lord knows there is a way_

 _And ev'ry minute_

 _Ev'ry second ev'ry day_

 _I Wake up tired_

 _And I just pray_

 _That you are here and_

 _you are here to stay_

 _Oh—I pray_

 _But you're in love with running_

 _And darling you're so cunning_

 _And damn I'm such a klutz_

 _Tripping for a touch_

 _And you're just out of reach_

 _And I can't stop to bleed_

 _And I'm running out of blood_

 _And enough is enough_

 _Time, Time_

 _I'm running down the line_

 _Cannot hide no longer cause_

 _I'm running out of time_

 _Time, Time_

 _I'm running down the line_

 _Cannot hide no longer cause_

 _I'm running out of time"_

With a few last notes, Jaune's voice faded.

Ruby stared at her friend with wide eyes. His voice was amazing. Incredible. Unlike anything she had ever heard. The emotion he had conveyed was so…raw…so visceral.

It was…

And then his aura.

When he'd begun singing, he had closed his eyes. And his aura became visible, pulsating along with the music. It had faded when his song ended.

But while it was going…

It was so warm and beautiful and…

Jaune opened his eyes. "What'd you guys think? I know it needs some work but..."

Ruby exchanged a glance with Iris.

The nurse was the first to recover from the unexpected pleasure of Jaune's music.

"So, the patient over there seemed to be indicating you're available? But I didn't catch an…age?"

Jaune blinked.

Ruby's protest was on the tip of her tongue.

Then the bullhead shuddered and groaned, like a choking pelican mid-flight.

The pilot's voice erupted over the intercom. "Prepare for emergency forest landing!"

Then the bullhead began to tip forward.

Jaune and Ruby who were both strapped down to bolted fixtures didn't move. Iris, was not so lucky. She fell forward, slamming her ribs into corner of Ruby's bed and then toppled towards the cockpit entrance, nearly fifteen feet away.

Ruby watched her go. Sure, she'd found the nurse aggravating. And somehow even after she'd been silent for a while, after Jaune's song finished she found her even more irritating.

But none of that meant she wanted to see the woman break her neck.

She cried out.

Jaune just barely managed to snag Iris with his left arm.

He pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her waist tightly.

Ruby's eyes met his as they both experienced the full affect of gravity pulling them and their ride inexorably closer to the ground.

And then there was an explosion of sensations and color and darkness.

And the darkness consumed all the rest.

And there was nothing left.

I*I*I

Ozpin had problems.

Big problems.

He honestly wasn't used to having problems he didn't have any idea how to solve.

But handling Glynda Goodwitch…

This was one of those.

And he was operating on a deadline too.

No doubt Weiss and Pyrrha would give her the cold shoulder at the first opportunity that presented itself and when she confronted them about it…

All would be revealed.

And if that didn't happen, she would eventually ask him just what happened to his _favored_ student, Jaune Arc. Once her curiosity was roused there…

Shit.

This was going to be a bad day. A really bad day.

He took a sip of his gargantuan coffee mug.

Ah. But that was better.

Perhaps he could convince Weiss and Pyrrha to let him talk to Glynda himself, and then bargain for a few extra days?

The effects of the sip wore off.

He groaned. As if they would give him that.

Like he said, this was going to be an extremely bad day.

His scroll rang. He checked the number. Doctor Morado.

"Yes, Doctor?"

A voice he did not quite expect came ripping out of the speaker. Yang Xiao Long. _"You sent Ruby off to Vale without telling me!? How could you!? Where is she!? She needs me!"_

Ah, it seemed Yang had woken up bright and early to visit her sister.

And it seemed he had forgotten to inform the hyper-protective older sibling that he had given Doctor Morado permission to send Ruby to a specialist in Vale.

That said, Yang's rage, as visceral as it was, hardly _ranked_ on his concerns for the day.

"Miss Rose will be continuing her treatments in Vale Miss Xiao Long. I apologize that I forgot to inform you."

 _"You—"_

Ozpin hung up before she could continue.

Now, to focus on the source of his headaches for the day.

Glynda Goodwitch.

And how to tell her that he had inadvertently caused her to almost-murder a child?

Well…

Not phrasing it like that was a start.

His scroll rang again.

Ah, not now.

He checked the number. Surprisingly it wasn't Doctor Morado again.

It was the Landing-Area Coordinator: Mitchell. It was the man's job to organize the flight paths and landing times of the various bullheads that flew to and from the school.

What could he want?

Ozpin answered the call. "Hello?"

 _"Hiya headmaster, just needed to pass on a message from one of our incoming bullheads, about ten minutes out."_

Ozpin sighed, when it was time to solve a problem, he just couldn't get time to think, could he?

He turned up the volume on his scroll and set it on the far edge of his desk, freeing him up to lean back and use both hands to grip his mug. "What is the message Mitchell?"

 _"Hold on, I'll patch you through, she can tell you herself."_

Ozpin rolled his eyes. "Mitchell, if you know the message, then please relay it yourself."

 _"Huh, I started the patch, but it's taking its own sweet time. Well, since I'm here, guess I can tell you…"_

"Yes?" prompted Ozpin.

 _"She said, **be ready to meet in your office in twenty minutes**."_

"Are you missing an _I'll_ in there?" asked Ozpin.

 _"No,"_ replied Mitchell. _"I think it was more of a **you, be ready to meet in your office in twenty minutes**. But when you're making a command the **you** is implied you know."_

Ozpin imbibed in his coffee.

He'd been speaking the common tongue as long as it had been around. He _knew_ how to speak it.

"And just _who_ will be ready to meet in my office in twenty minutes?"

He took another indulgent sip.

 _"Uh, Willow Arc?"_

Burning coffee flew out of his nose and mouth as he hacked.

"W-what!?"

 _"Yeah, she didn't give me a lot of details. That's why I'm trying to patch you through. The stupid machine is taking its sweet time too—what did you just say!?"_

Ozpin heard an answering shout in the background. "Called in a code red, followed by a mayday, and then we lost communications!"

Code red? As in severe failure in a bullhead?

Mayday? As in crash imminent?

 _"Which one!?"_ screamed Mitchell.

 _"The Nurse's Ride!"_ the voice answered.

The Nurse's Ride! As in the bullhead containing Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc?

 _"Shit!"_ Mitchell swore.

Ozpin just stared blankly as Mitchell and his voice moved further and further away from his scroll. There was rapid conversation going on between various staff members and Ozpin probably should have been lending some kind of support. But…

He was frozen.

His eyes were drawn upward when the elevator doors to his office opened and in walked Glynda Goodwitch. She was sorting through several papers, rubbing her forehead as she proceeded. "Ozpin we…"

She trailed off when she saw him.

He must have looked bad for her to have stopped talking all together.

Then his scroll dinged.

Ozpin knew that ding.

He'd been patched.

 _"Hello?"_ , a feminine voice escaped his scroll. Glynda raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.

Ozpin just shook his head and held up a finger to his lips.

 _"I just heard a ding? Does that mean I'm patched through, or am I still speaking with Mitchell?"_

A moment's pause.

 _"Well, I can't hear you, but if you can hear me Mitchell—or Ozpin for that matter. I forgot to say this with my first message."_

Another moment's pause.

 _"Make sure that **Bitch,** Glynda is there too."_

Then the line went dead.

Ozpin took a sip of coffee.

He missed.

The scalding liquid soaked through his shirt and pants.

And…

He didn't give a shit.

I*I*I

Ruby awoke slowly.

She was in pain.

Not as bad or as specific as when she broke her legs.

But pain, nonetheless.

Her head was laid on something soft and comfortable. It wasn't quite a pillow. Maybe a lap?

Her eyes fluttered open, she winced at the bright light that seared her retinas. She sealed her eyelids shut immediately.

"Just take your time, okay? Just take your time…"

Ruby recognized that voice. It was Iris. The nurse from the bullhead.

The bullhead!

Something happened. They were falling and now they were? Where?

Well, at least she could still hear, maybe that would help, there was a pleasant melody being hummed along to guitar, that was Jaune, so he was probably alright—thankfully.

And there was the rustle of leaves, so they were probably in a forest.

Forest.

Flying to Vale.

They were in a Grimm infested area!

If Ruby was the swearing type, she would have sworn. Although, if she was being honest, she likely would not have done it well.

Opening her eyes was an immediate priority.

She fought through the pain with a squint and, eventually, could make out Irises face, as well as a curtain of long hair that tickled her face and obscured her vision.

Ruby attempted to sit up.

Iris kept her down with a hand to her forehead.

"Hold on, hold on."

"I need to get up!" insisted Ruby.

"I know, I know," replied Iris. "I just…you need to not freak out."

"I'm a huntress, I'm not going to freak out!"

"Wrong," replied Iris. "You haven't even started your first year of real huntress training. I did three before I became a nurse—and I've been awake for an hour and I'm still on the verge of freaking out. So, I'm gonna need for you to keep repeating to yourself—over and over again, _I will not freak out_. Can you do that for me?"

Ruby glared up at the nurse. Was this really necessary?

"You're not sitting up until you start saying it."

Ruby sighed.

"I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out."

"Good," said Iris. "Keep that up."

She placed a hand under Ruby's head and eased her upward.

All the while Ruby continued with her mantra. It was dumb. But if this was what it took to get a better—

Ruby's train of thought hit another train going in the opposite direction carrying nuclear waste.

Grimm.

Ruby had never seen so many Grimm.

Dozens of them.

Ursai.

Beowolves.

Nevermore.

Boarbatusk

A king Taijitu.

They were just…

They were just there….

They were…

They were…

They were _lazing_ about.

At the center of the Grimm mass was Jaune, legs crossed, an Ursa Major resting it's head on his lap. He was switching between singing a few lyrics and humming as he played guitar.

Then he noticed Ruby staring at him.

He stopped playing.

"Ruby, you're awake!"

"W-wh-what…?" was all Ruby managed to get out.

Jaune glanced around the Grimm filled clearing. "Yeah, crazy right? Grimm really like my music."

"B-but that…But…No—but…?"

The Ursa which was using Jaune's lap as a pillow looked up at him and growled.

"Oi!" cried Jaune.

Then he…

Then he plucked it. Right on the only part of its face exposed by its bone mask.

It's nose.

"How do you ask?"

The monster's mouth opened. Its neck craned for Jaune's hand.

It licked Jaune's knuckles.

"See, that's all you had to do," said Jaune. "Ask."

Then he resumed playing and the Ursa's head languidly drooped back onto Jaune's lap.

Ruby's eyes rolled into the back of her head.

She collapsed.

 **And thus, ends the introduction Arc to Guitar Huntsman. *wipes sweats off brow***

 **It was a big intro and a lot of people seemed to have gotten fed up with it.**

 **Which you know, is on me for taking so long to finish it.**

 **(In my defense, this "introduction" is as long as a full-length novel.)**

 **I mean, I like eliciting some emotion—although rage at the writer is not ideal.**

 **For the record, Ozpin and Glynda were really only _antagonists/villains_ for this intro.**

 **If people don't like the direction this story is going in—as some of the reviews from three days ago seem to indicate—maybe, I'll just let it lie for a while and start a new story. It would sadden me a bit because I think this was where the story was going to start to get really interesting buttttttttttt**

 **I'd live because I got something great bouncing around in my head.**

 **Also, about the numbers in my last AN.**

 **I agree with the reviewer who stated that all the math isn't necessary, generally shows like RWBY don't need rocket science going into every little thing. But what every story needs is consistency. And in a crazy action show, numbers give consistency.**

 **Something that has always bothered me in RWBY is when Ruby runs vertically up the cliff, while dragging a Giant Nevermore and then beheads it. And then when she runs to save Penny and gets casually booted aside by Mercury.**

 **Can she generate enough force to defy gravity while dragging a 900-pound bird? Or can she be casually punted by a guy with a metal leg?**

 **One scene makes me think she is the fastest character on the show. The next makes me think she's not even a blip on the map for Mercury in terms of speed.**

 **If you don't establish upper and lower limits, then stakes in action become meaningless. It's no longer a matter of which character is faster or stronger or cleverer—it just comes down to what does the writer want to have happen at any given time—regardless of what has been previously established.**

 **I don't care if a character is weak. I don't care if their brokenly strong. Just make them fit consistently within the power structure of the story and it's all good.**

 **RWBY's one of those shows where consistent skill, ability, and power doesn't mean much.**

 **I'm just not a fan of that kind of writing.**

 **Double Also: I will be updating Navigator soon.**

 **-Vronsurd**

 **Beta'd by MysteryBeta**


End file.
